


On Your Side

by ultradaniblonde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Anti-Possession Tattoos (Supernatural), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Babysitting, Bullying, Caring John Winchester, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Jealous John Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lingerie, Love Confessions, Nightmares, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Overprotective John Winchester, Pancakes, Phone Sex, Possessive John Winchester, Praise Kink, Romantic Fluff, Sam Winchester Has a Fear of Clowns, Schoolgirls, Slow Burn, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampires, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 75
Words: 54,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultradaniblonde/pseuds/ultradaniblonde
Summary: Babysitter + John Winchester ...Aella finds herself babysitting Sam and Dean Winchester, unaware her life is more closely intertwined with John's than she could have ever imagined... also known as the time my muse whispered "tell it backwards"





	1. Chapter 1

“Sammy, go to your room,” Aella ordered, “Dean, you too,” she adds, eyes blazing. Without a backwards glance, Dean grabs Sammy’s hand leading him up the stairs.

“You don’t get to order them around!” John shouts menacingly, or at least he should have been with his disheveled dark brown hair, swarthy complexion, faint lines etched at the corners of his eyes and full beard peppered with white. Grabbing books from the coffee table and shoving them into a duffel bag he pauses to glare at the teen standing in front of him.

With her hands on her hips, she stands in her school uniform: a black sweater layered over a white crisp button down tucked into the pleated plaid skirt. Her black Mary Jane shoes match her thigh high socks and add inches to her petite frame offering a scant peek of her tawny thighs.

“And you don’t get to fuck me and then treat me like a child,” Aella counters. She digs her fingers into her hips, fury sparkling in her sky blue eyes as John lowers his gaze cramming more belongings into the army duffel. “You don’t get to make decisions for me and before you start, I was mixed up in all of this long before I walked into this house,” she rages cutting him off before he can interject.

“I told you. It is too dangerous,” John warns reaching for more books. 

“Then tell me why you are dragging Sam and Dean along? Or are you really suggesting you can teach a twelve year old to fire a shotgun, but you can’t show me?” she questions.

She crosses the room, her light brown hair falling over her shoulders slightly tousled from what John intended to be their final goodbye. She places her hand on top of the book stopping his frantic packing. “John, you leaving makes us both vulnerable. We are stronger together and you know it,” she says her voice suddenly soft and silky.

John closes his eyes tightly reminding himself he is very much going to Hell. “You have one hour,” he relents, eyes still closed. Aella runs her fingers through his thick locks gently pulling him down towards her. With his forehead pressed against hers, she whispers, “I’m here for all of it, John. The good, the bad. We make our own future,” inciting a dangerous hope in his chest. 


	2. Chapter 2

_5 Months Ago_

The doorbell chimes and it is like a jackhammer in John’s skull. Squinting, he stumbles to the front door, narrowly missing the side table, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He scowls when he finds a teenage girl standing on his porch. Her oversized army green parka with matted fake fur engulfs her petite frame. If John was unsure about her age, the navy and forest green plaid skirt is a dead giveaway. He opens the door leaving the screen door locked. Frigid air seeps into the warm house. “Whatever it is, we aren’t interested,” he growls.

Her eyes narrow as she stares at him. Unintimidated, she instead drags her eyes over his body noticing his dark chest hair and lean wiry build. Eyes flickering back to his face she asks, “Are you John Winchester?” with a neutral expression. John inwardly curses for answering the door without his shotgun. “Pastor Jim sent me,” she explains.

“And why would he do that?” John asks skeptically. With no intention of letting her inside, he leans against the doorframe.

“Because you are one Child Protective Services visit away from losing your kids,” she answers straightforwardly.

“Fuck,” John curses hitting the doorframe so hard it rattles. “Come on in,” he says reluctantly.

She scans the front room as John bolts the door behind her. Books, dishes, beer bottles and clothes are strewn everywhere. A large thump sounds overhead and in an instant two boys are hurtling down the stairs. The oldest is around twelve with big brown eyes, freckles and a buzz cut. The younger has light shaggy hair that falls into his face as he trails after his brother. Stopping midstride, the oldest stops, “Dad?” he asks questioningly.

“It’s alright,” John says reassuringly rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. “This is … what did you say your name was again?” John asks.

“Aella,” she supplies, carefully watching the eldest.

“I am Dean. This is Sammy,” Dean clarifies.  

“Nice to meet you,” Aella says cautiously.

“Dad, Sammy won’t stop going through my things,” Dean complains.

“Not now, Dean. Go back upstairs. I need to talk to Aella,” John orders.

Aella watches as Dean stomps back upstairs with a dejected expression. Aella continues to stand uncertain where to sit. John begins to clear off the couch, stacking papers before shoving them into books. “What else did Pastor Jim tell you?” John asks.

“He said you needed someone to watch your boys,” Aella begins.

“I can’t afford a babysitter and Sam and Dean can handle themselves,” John retorts.

“CPS doesn’t see it that way and besides Pastor Jim said this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement,” Aella states eyes darting around the room.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John asks dryly.

“I find myself owing a significant debt to the state,” Aella says delicately.

“What the hell?” John asks suspiciously.

“Community service. 1200 hours,” Aella answers picking up a book before flipping through it. 

John quickly snatches it from her hands. “It’s your lucky day,” she says with an aloof expression. After scrounging for a piece of paper, John quickly jots down her phone number before ushering her out of the house. Within minutes, he is on the phone with Pastor Jim who assures him Aella isn’t a demon hell-bent on torturing Sam and Dean. He dodges John’s questions about her debt to society, and instead insists she is trustworthy and perfectly capable of watching the boys. Annoyed, John hangs up the phone staring at the loopy scrawl of her name and phone number.


	3. Chapter 3

“Aella?” John’s rough voice asks uncertainly. The sound of her name on his lips sends waves of lust through her. Realizing she hesitated a second too long she responds, “I’m here,” clenching her jaw. She scans her bedroom aware of the paper-thin walls.

“I talked to Pastor Jim,” he begins before clearing his throat. “I have a job tomorrow night. Don’t want to risk leaving Sam and Dean alone with that annoying bitch from CPS in town,” John gripes.

“I can be at your place by five,” Aella answers.

“Great,” John says unenthusiastically. 

“See you then,” he says hurriedly.

“John?” Aella interrupts.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Next time text,” she orders before disconnecting the call.

School passes in a blur, the anxiety of entertaining two young boys for a whole evening gripping her stomach. Blissfully ignored, she shoves her books into her locker as the dismissal bell rings. She turns the key in the ignition praying her old Corolla starts. When the engine turns over, she eases out of the lot, stopping at her house before making her way towards the Winchester household. 

John stands in the front room with a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Three rules. 1. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I don’t care if you know them. This door doesn’t open. 2. Don’t answer the phone. If it is me, I will call and let it ring twice and then call back. 3. Don’t leave the house. For any reason,” John says staring at Aella as if his piercing gaze alone could drill the rules into her skull.

“Got it,” Aella says.

“Any questions?” John asks with a disturbed expression expecting more resistance.

“No,” Aella answers shrugging in her oversized coat.

“I’ll be back late,” he says before grabbing his keys. 

“See you later,” she says casually. He gives her another glare before walking out the door waiting for her to bolt it behind him.

“I thought he would never leave!” Aella says with a mischievous smile turning to find Sam and Dean seated on the stairs.

Sam grins, but Dean watches her cautiously. “Come on. Let’s see what John left for dinner,” she encourages shrugging off her parka. Ushering the boys to the small kitchen, she sits them down before opening the pantry. A few boxes of macaroni and cheese and canned pasta line the shelves. “Canned pasta or macaroni and cheese?” she asks skeptically unsurprised when Sam and Dean grimace. “Or…” she begins staring at the pantry, “Pancakes?” she asks in an excited tone.  

“Pancakes!” Sam shouts.

“What do you think Dean?” she asks hesitantly.

“We never eat pancakes,” Dean answers.

Well if you want I can make the pasta…” Aella begins.

“I don’t know how to make them,” Dean interrupts.

“Oh,” she answers. “Well, I can show you and that way you and Sam can have pancakes whenever you want. Does that sounds okay?” she questions feeling completely out of her element.

“I guess that sounds okay,” Dean answers.

Pulling out the ingredients, she smiles to herself thinking pancakes is a decent start to what might be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

It is three in the morning when John pulls up to the small two-story house in his massive black truck. He frowns when he sees the light still on in the kitchen. The unexpected addition of a second and third vampire made tonight’s hunt more dangerous than he anticipated. His muscles groan and with his bloody clothes stuffed in his duffel bag all he can think about is a hot shower.

He unlocks the front door gently easing it shut, glancing up the stairs towards Sam and Dean’s room. Aella emerges from the kitchen; her black faded AC/DC t-shirt with the sleeves cut off tucked into her jeans. Her hair is pulled high into a messy bun and sticky gobs stain her clothes.

“I made dinner and we watched two movies. Sam and Dean helped me clean until Sam started falling asleep while drying a plate. I told them to shower and put them to bed. Well, I put Sam to bed. I kind of just told Dean ‘Goodnight’ but he was sleeping last I checked,” she reports drying a plate with a dishtowel oblivious to wisps of amber hair escaping her topknot.

“Right. Okay,” John says setting his bag down. He stares at her as seconds pass in silence and when he realizes she is waiting for him to say something he adds, “Sounds good,” gruffly. She turns back towards the kitchen placing the dish in the drying rack.

Making her way towards the front room she reaches for her shoes and parka. Balancing on one leg to slide on the worn studded brown motorcycle boot, John notices that despite her height, she is all legs. He wonders how they would feel wrapped around his waist, his hand fisting her honey colored hair. He clears his throat before she says, “Text me if you need me,” making her way towards the front door sliding her arms through the huge jacket. 

Bolting the door behind her, John rests his head against the front door. Attributing his fantasy to exhaustion, he sighs before picking up his bag and walking towards the laundry room, stuffing the bloody clothes in the washer. Opening the refrigerator, he notices a plate of pancakes covered with clear plastic wrap. He realizes Aella must have made the boys pancakes instead of the boxed crap he left them. Setting the plate in the microwave and turning the coffee maker on, he decides a cold shower might be better.


	5. Chapter 5

When days pass with no word from John, Aella begins to wonder if Sam told John she let him watch _It_ even though Dean assured her Sam would be fine. Adjusting her thick navy tights, she tucks her white button down shirt into her skirt all while staring at her phone sitting on top of her PE clothes. Suddenly the screen illuminates.

John: What are you doing?

Picking up the phone with a smirk she quickly responds.

Aella: Cheerleading tryouts.

She finishes dressing and runs her fingers through her disheveled hair, frowning when she doesn’t see a response. Grabbing her phone she sends a second message.

Aella: It was a joke. What’s up?

John: Need you to watch Sam and Dean. How soon can you be here?

Aella debates skipping last period, but she can’t risk it.

Aella: I have one more class. An hour?

In an instant the screen brightens.

John: Fine

Rolling her eyes, she shoves her clothes into her gym bag and races out of the locker room.

John stares at the small plastic screen of his phone. When Aella told him she was trying out for the cheerleading squad, all he could think of was her in a skirt sitting in his lap with no panties, her gorgeous hair cascading down her back. Not trusting himself to respond, he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when she told him it was a joke. Tossing the phone on the sofa, he heads to the kitchen and hopes staring at a map of cattle mutilations will help bring down the erection pushing against his jeans. 

An hour later the guttural rasp of a car signals her arrival. Unlocking the door he barks, “That car sounds like shit,” holding the door open. She narrows her eyes at him before setting a brown grocery bag on the side table and unzipping her jacket. When she hears feet running down the stairs, a smile tugs at her lips.

“Aella,” Dean says, surprised she has returned. 

“Hey Dean. Where’s Sammy?” she asks.

“He is checking his closet for clow—” Dean begins before Aella shakes her head cutting him off.

“Come on let’s go find him,” she interrupts grabbing his hand leading him upstairs. Turning towards Sam’s room, Aella stands in the doorway watching him stare at his closet.  

“Hey Sam,” she greets softly. He jumps at the sound of her voice. “Listen, Sam. There are no clowns in your closet,” she says walking confidently into his room. “Here stand next to Dean,” she says gently guiding him towards the doorway, “And I will check okay?” she assures. Sam grabs Dean’s hand when Aella opens the closet and pushes his clothes to the side inspecting it thoroughly. “Nothing. I promise,” she confirms. She closes the door and squats down in front of him so they are eye level. “I brought dinner,” she says hoping to distract him.

“These groceries aren’t going to put themselves away!” John shouts from downstairs.

“Come on,” she says tugging them both downstairs.

Clutching the bag to her chest, Sam and Dean run to the kitchen. “I remember the rules, John,” Aella snaps trying to ignore the heat pooling between her thighs. John is wearing a thick wool coat over a denim button down and black jeans and if she releases her grip on the bag she is going to start rubbing herself all over him.

“I’ll be back late,” he says grabbing his duffel bag and slinging it over his back. She bolts the door behind him and sets off for the kitchen hoping she remembered all the ingredients for the casserole.


	6. Chapter 6

Lightly dozing, Aella turns over trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy couch. The blanket falls to the floor, but her skin is flushed as she imagines John’s mouth between her legs nuzzling and sucking her soft folds, his beard scraping her inner thighs as he devours her. Sunlight flits through the window and she quickly realizes it is morning and John hasn’t come home.

“Hurry up, Sam! We are late! We missed the bus!” Dean shouts storming down the stairs.

“I’m trying!” Sam yells grabbing his backpack not realizing it is unzipped. Pens and notebooks scatter across the floor and Dean looks even more flustered. Aella jumps up helping Sam collect his school supplies while turning to Dean, “What time is it?” she demands.

“It is almost 7:30. If we are late again they are going to call Dad,” he answers frantically.

Suddenly the front door unlocks and John walks into the house. Spotting Sam and Dean he shouts, “Dean! What the hell? You are supposed to get your brother to school!” with an angry expression.

Panicking, Dean glances at Sam just as Aella finishes zipping his backpack. “I told them I would take them,” she lies rubbing her lower back, scowling at the couch. John glances at the disturbed cushions and crumpled blanket. “High School doesn’t start for another hour and I need to go home and shower. It is on the way,” she quickly explains. After stumbling as she balances on one leg buckling her Mary Jane shoes, she grabs her coat. “Come on,” she tells Dean giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze rushing the boys out of the house.                      

They are halfway across the driveway before John calls, “Aella,” his voice like gravel.

“Go get in the car,” she whispers urging them forward.

With his bag still slung across his shoulders, he stares at her. Her sapphire eyes glitter as she squints adjusting to the sunlight. With her hair tousled and shirt untucked, John can tell she is barely awake. When John continues to stare at her in silence she says, “I think the phrase you are looking for is thank you,” she suggests with a sleepy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just get your ass to school and try not to kill my kids in that death trap,” John says shaking his head. Even with one eye closed Aella can almost make out the smile on John’s lips.

“And you are sure he isn’t mad?” Dean asks as Aella pulls up to the large brick building with a flagpole in front.

“I don’t think so, but let’s not make a habit out of it, okay?” she responds.

“Thanks Aella,” Dean says shyly.

“Anytime Dean-o,” she answers with a smile as the boys climb out of her car.

With her hair still damp, she races to school grabbing books from her locker. When her phone chirps, she glances down confused.

John: Come over tonight?

Tucking her books under her arm, she dodges students typing her response.

Aella: Leaving again so soon?

John: No. I am going to fix your car.

Staring at the blinking message, Aella is overcome with the distinct feeling that her response will trigger a chain of events that can’t be undone, a line that can’t be uncrossed.  Deliberating over the hand life has dealt her thus far, she thoughtfully types her response and hits send.

Aella: See you tonight. 


	7. Chapter 7

Ringing the doorbell, Aella stands on the porch waiting for John to answer. He unbolts the door and leads her to the kitchen where Sam and Dean are sitting. “Hey boys,” she greets watching them play checkers. Glancing over at John, he is effortlessly handsome in a black long sleeve thermal. The waffle knit Henley contrasts the white in his beard and compliments his onyx eyes. He looks rested, but she can sense the underlying current of tension and when he extends his hand out for her keys, she can tell he isn’t interested in small talk. As she digs through her coat pocket, she admires his hands: tan with callouses on the palm and long lean fingers. His large hands envelop her keys before he leaves making his way to the driveway.

Shrugging out of her coat, Aella sits at the kitchen table across from Dean. “How was school?” she asks casually. Dean, focused on his next move, doesn’t respond. “It was great. I really like this one,” Sam answers in an enthusiastic tone. 

“This one?” Aella questions cautiously.

 “Yeah, I have been to three, no four! This one is the best so far though,” Sam says absently returning his attention to the red and black board.

“I see,” Aella murmurs. With his turn over, Dean finally joins the conversation, “Zip it, Sam. We aren’t supposed to talk about it,” he quietly orders.

Aella notices Sam’s slight frown and interjects, “No worries. Things we aren’t supposed to talk about is kind of my middle name,” she says with a cynical smile.

“So, who is winning?” she asks shifting the conversation and sparking a major debate between the boys.

John stands in the driveway staring under the hood of Aella’s car. An icy breeze blows, but even without a jacket his body is overheated. Seeing Aella in her rumpled school uniform left him wondering what she would look like without it. Thoughts of her stranded on the side of the road in that fuck me outfit did not sit well with him. Cursing her piece of shit car, he groans before taking a closer look at the battery.

One hour later, Sam asks “Are you staying for dinner?” scanning the kitchen for a grocery bag.

“I am not sure. Your dad is fixing my car. I didn’t bring anything,” she answers with an apologetic smile. “Let me go check and see if he is almost done,” she says getting up from the hard kitchen chair. Not bothering with her coat, she wraps her arms around herself as she walks out the door approaching John. 

“I think Sam is getting hungry,” she interrupts. “I wasn’t sure how much longer it would be … I can make something,” she offers, standing next to him.

“No worries. I am almost done,” John says wiping his hands on a greasy rag.  “Your spark plugs were dirty. That’s why your car was making that awful fucking sputtering noise,” he adds snapping the hood strut down before slamming the hood. “You should really get your car checked out more regularly,” he lectures taking a step back eyeing the run-down vehicle. 

With her back to him she responds, “I will,” in a serious tone. “I am sure you don’t want Sam and Dean riding around in something so unreliable,” she adds. John resists the possessive urge to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back towards his chest so he can smell her.

“I’ll grab my coat,” she says interrupting his thoughts turning towards the house. “Thanks again,” she says pushing her wind blown hair back from her face leaving him alone in the driveway.


	8. Chapter 8

John: Need you to watch the boys Friday

Aella: Okay

John: Got a bad feeling

Aella: CPS?

John: Yeah. I have to go though.

John stares at his phone. He is reluctant to leave, but Martin will clear the nest out with or without him. If that nag from CPS stirs up trouble, he could find himself packing the truck and uprooting Sam and Dean again which is not what he wants considering he has caught wind of something big. Worried, he runs his fingers through his hair and heads upstairs to pack.

With the weather warming, Aella forgoes her parka and stands on John’s porch in a cream cable knit turtleneck, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, strands already escaping. With a brown grocery bag balanced on her hip, she waits for John to answer, surprised when Dean opens the door instead. “Dean,” she greets with a confused expression.

“Dad is finishing packing,” Dean explains. Aella quickly bolts the door behind them and makes her way to the kitchen. Dean disappears upstairs and Aella unpacks the groceries unaware John is watching her. 

“No AC/DC?” John asks dropping his duffel bag onto the kitchen floor.

“Trust me, CPS will not be overly impressed with band t-shirts,” she says sarcastically.

“Listen, I am probably going to be back late,” John begins leaning against the doorframe.

“Okay,” she responds inattentively.

John clears his throat, “If you want, put Sam and Dean in my room so you can have Dean’s bed. He is putting fresh sheets on it now,” John says roughly.

She pauses and her eyes flicker to his face. He didn’t offer his bed, yet the ban on entering John’s room has been lifted. “Thank you,” she says returning to the groceries, ignoring the thoughts of rubbing herself against his sheets and fantasizing about his hands while touching herself in his bed. Picking his duffel off of the floor, he says bye and in minutes he is gone. 

John’s instincts are right and one hour later the doorbell rings. Setting the table, Sam and Dean freeze staring at Aella. Checking the timer on the oven and the boiling pot, she orders, “Stay here,” before walking towards the front door. Opening it slightly, she sees a short heavyset woman with brown chin length hair clutching a docket to her chest. “Can I help you?” Aella asks politely.

“I am Tabitha Sanchez, the social worker assigned to Sam and Dean Winchester,” she states.

“May I please see some ID?” Aella asks carefully.

Surprised, Tabitha digs through the purse under her arm and pulls out an identification card. “Thank you,” Aella says graciously as she unlocks the door. “I am Aella, Sam and Dean’s babysitter,” she volunteers. “John isn’t here at the moment, but please come in. We are cooking dinner,” she says leading Tabitha to the kitchen.

Aella holds her breath as Tabitha follows her into the kitchen obviously assessing the scene before her. Sam and Dean set utensils on the kitchen table while a large pot boils on the stove. The timer dings, breaking her from her trance and Aella reaches for an oven mitt, pulling out a meatloaf.

“Did you need to talk to Sam and Dean? We are about to eat dinner. You are more than welcome to join us,” she offers. Aella’s voice is infused with sincerity, but she desperately wants this woman to leave.

“I do need to talk to them. Privately,” she insists, “and then I will need to talk to you,” she says scanning Aella questionably.


	9. Chapter 9

“You can talk to them in the front room while I finish dinner,” Aella advises.

“They need to feel they can speak openly,” Tabitha pushes, assessing the distance between the front room and the kitchen.

Aella turns the dial on the stove off eyeing the potatoes before turning back towards Tabitha. “I understand, but John has currently tasked me with their welfare and identification or not, I am not going to leave them behind closed doors with a stranger. If you need to come back I understand,” Aella says leveling Tabitha a challenging gaze.

Seconds pass as Tabitha considers Aella’s ultimatum. “The front room is fine,” she says curtly before leaving the room. “Boys, go check in with Tabitha. I will be in the kitchen finishing dinner,” she says staring at Dean purposefully.

Mashing potatoes with more force than necessary, Aella only hears murmurs from the adjoining room. Dumping a can of corn into a bowl and setting it on the counter, she finally hears Tabitha clear her throat letting her know she is ready to question Aella. She quickly sets the kitchen timer for five minutes before warning Sam and Dean, “Don’t start eating without me,” as they eye dinner hungrily.

Sitting on the couch across from Tabitha, Aella keeps her expression neutral. “How long have you been babysitting the Winchester boys?” Tabitha inquires.

“Almost a month,” Aella answers.

“And what do you think of their father? John?” Tabitha asks. 

Without hesitation Aella answers, “John loves his sons. Their education is very important to him and I am happy to watch Sam and Dean when John is unavailable,” a friendly smile on her lips.

“And where is he currently?” Tabitha probes. 

Aella internally curses. She has never asked John where he goes and he has never asked her why she was sentenced community service. 

“Aella?” Tabitha prompts impatiently.

“An emergency. A friend of John’s. I am hazy on the details, but as I mentioned, Sam and Dean are such good kids, I had no problem canceling my plans for the evening,” she explains.

“And where did you say you attend school?” Tabitha prods. Panic explodes inside of Aella. If Tabitha starts digging into her past, it could mean trouble for all of them. Suddenly, the shrill kitchen timer rings and Dean shouts, “Aella, the timer is going off!” his voice carrying to the front room.

“I’ll be right there! Don’t touch anything,” Aella answers. She turns towards Tabitha, “Was there anything else you needed? I really need to make sure Dean and Sam eat dinner,” she says with a harmless expression. Ushering Tabitha out the door, Aella leans her head back against the door taking a deep breath. Stripping off the itchy sweater, she sits at the kitchen table in her tank top smiling at Sam and Dean. “Ready to eat?” she asks with a smile.

John’s truck roars down the dark road. It is just before dawn when his cell phone pings and he finally has cell service again. Snatching the phone he frowns noticing he has two voicemails. Punching play, he shudders hearing Tabitha Sanchez’s voice.

“John. This is Tabitha Sanchez, Sam and Dean’s caseworker. I just completed a house visit and was informed you were unavailable,” she says succinctly. His heart clenches as she pauses before continuing, “I was very impressed with the babysitter you hired. I can’t say I have ever been asked for my credentials before entering a home. She is obviously taking good care of your sons in your absence,” she says letting the word hang. “I hope you are available next time,” she concludes with a click of the line.

John frowns unhappy with the insinuation he isn’t spending enough time with his kids, but pleased Aella was able to demonstrate they are being well cared for even if he hasn’t been around.

The next message plays automatically and John is surprised to hear Aella’s voice. “John. It’s me. Dean is sick and he won’t stop throwing up. If his fever doesn’t break soon, I am taking him to the hospital. Call me when you can,” she says her voice surprisingly composed.

John tosses the phone on the passenger seat pressing the gas pedal to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

As the sun begins to rise, John rushes into the house, scanning the kitchen and front room. Running upstairs, he becomes frantic when he finds Sam and Dean’s rooms empty. Pushing the door to master bedroom open, he finds Sam asleep in his bed.  He checks on Sam before glancing at the adjoining bathroom. The smell of vomit wafts through the open door and he finds Dean and Aella asleep on the tile floor. With his cheek pressed to the tile, Dean sleeps on his stomach, his skin pale. Curled to her side, Aella’s hand covers Dean’s wrist reassuringly. John presses his hand to Dean’s forehead, relieved he is no longer feverish. Leaning back against the bathroom wall, John sighs staring at the ceiling.

He tried calling Aella a dozen times, but when she didn’t answer the fear in his throat was suffocating. No longer panicked, he assumes Dean spent the better part of the night throwing up before his fever broke and he finally fell asleep. Knowing Sam, he probably refused to sleep in his own bed, worried about his big brother. John shakes his head thinking he will be lucky if Sam doesn’t spend the night curled against the toilet. Aella too, he reflects guiltily. Rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes, he leans down and picks Dean up carefully setting him down next to Sam.

As he walks back to the bathroom, he realizes Aella is wearing his clothes. A gray Singer Salvage Yard shirt engulfs her petite frame riding up to reveal a flat stomach and the generous curve of her hip. His light blue boxers are rolled low exposing the dimples of her lower back, the fabric straining slightly against her round ass and her long toned legs end in dainty feet.

He extends an arm under her knees, the other bracing her back before lifting her off the floor. He wants nothing more than to stand her up in the shower and let the hot water soak her clothes before he peels them off, sinking his fingers into her hips, after teasing and rolling her nipples. Instead with her warm body pressed against his chest, he carries her to Dean’s bed and sets her down on the fresh sheets. He untangles his arms from her sleeping form and pulls the comforter over her.

Aella slowly wakes rubbing herself against the soft sheets imagining John’s strong hands, wondering whether his scent was a memory or fantasy. Squinting, she quickly realizes she is in Dean’s bed and flings the covers off, her bare feet hitting the floor. Hurrying down the hall, she finds Sam and Dean sleeping in John’s bed and hears someone downstairs. Slowly walking down the stairs, she finds John in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and has never been more relieved to see anyone in her life.


	11. Chapter 11

“You’re back,” she states, her brain still addled with exhaustion.

“Yeah. I am sorry you had to deal with that,” John says in a grave tone. The anxiety he felt driving home must have paled in comparison to the thought of dragging Sam and Dean to the hospital.

“I have dealt with worse. I am just glad I was here,” she says rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes.

“I found your clothes in the washer. I put them to dry. Guessing the sweater got tossed?” John asks.

“Dean threw up on it. He kept apologizing, I think he is convinced I am never coming back,” she explains with a half smile.

“What are the odds Sam is going to spend the night hunched over the toilet?” John asks bringing the coffee cup to his lips.

“Slim, I think. I thought maybe Dean had food poisoning but Sam and I are fine. I made meatloaf. There is some in the fridge. The boys’ caseworker stopped by,” she adds as an afterthought. At ease in the kitchen, Aella opens a cabinet and pulls out a glass. She fills it with water and takes a long sip.

“I heard. It was obvious she was unhappy I wasn’t here,” John grimaces.

“I told her you were with a friend. An emergency…” Aella begins.  

“That is close enough to the truth,” John says watching her cradle the glass in her hands.

Close enough to the truth, Aella deliberates. She has spent more time with the Winchesters than anyone else and she barely knows anything about them. “I should get going,” she says pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Yeah, I am sure your parents are worried,” John says absently, dumping his leftover coffee in the sink.

She walks over to the dryer and squats down, “Nobody is worried,” she clarifies gathering her jeans. She rummages through the clothes searching for her underwear.

“What?” John asks.

“Nobody is worried,” she repeats clutching her clothes to her chest before closing the dryer door. “I live with my step-brother. He isn’t exactly a worrier,” she says candidly.

“I’ll be right back,” she advises heading upstairs to change.

John considers her comment wishing he had pressed Pastor Jim for more details. Frowning, the thought that nobody is concerned with her whereabouts doesn’t sit well with him. He temporarily dismisses it when she returns minutes later. With his oversized shirt knotted at her waist, he watches as she walks to her car and pulls out of the driveway deciding he owes Pastor Jim a call.


	12. Chapter 12

After waking Sam and Dean, John orders them to clean the bathroom and strip the beds. Hoping Dean’s stomach bug doesn’t spread; John shoves bed sheets, pillowcases and bath towels in the washer. When he is satisfied they are feeling fine, he leaves Sam and Dean in the kitchen making pancakes and steps outside to call Pastor Jim.

Standing in the driveway staring up at a sky so blue it hurts, the phone rings twice before Jim answers. 

“John. How goes it?” he asks.

“Good. Just got back from a job with Martin. Listen, I need some information on Aella,” John responds in a steely tone.

“John….” Jim begins to object.

“She already told me she lives with her stepbrother,” John interrupts cutting him off. “She’s taking care of my kids and lying to CPS for me, Jim. She’s doing a damn good job of it too,” he admits. “I am just concerned,” he explains.

Jim clears his throat, “Aella’s mom killed her husband and then tried to kill herself. She said angels made her do it,” Jim discloses. Stunned, John’s heart skips a beat as he pauses waiting for Jim to continue. “After Aella vandalized the Church, I convinced the judge to give her community service. I think he thought I was going to make her clean up the mess she made,” Jim says.

“Why didn’t you?” John asks confused.

“The Church has insurance and plenty of folks willing to pick up a mop. I suspected there was some truth to Aella’s mom’s story, but before I could question her, she killed herself. If what I think is true, Aella could be a target and when I heard about your CPS issue … There is no reason for another family to be torn apart and if something is after her she is safer with you,” Jim finishes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” John demands angrily.

“Have you ever heard of angels, John? Real life angels? Cause I haven’t. I mean, if there are demons, there must be angels, but it would be a first for me. A game changer and I don’t just mean in a spiritual sense. I have no evidence and no leads. It was just a feeling,” Jim answers defensively. “Why? Has something happened?” Jim asks strangely.

“No,” John answers quickly pushing the thoughts of Aella's legs wrapped around his waist out of his mind. “What about her stepbrother?” John probes redirecting the conversation.

“Cyrus is technically her legal guardian. They’ve faked their way through a dozen CPS visits, which is why I suspect she is doing such a good job. It is going to be harder now that he’s a recruit for a local motorcycle club,” Jim says despondently.

“Motorcycle club?” John scoffs.

“Yeah. We have had a few in the past. Usually they are just guys dressed in leather who like to drink and obsess over their bikes. Harmless. Not this one though …” Jim says warily.

“Interesting,” John says absently turning back towards the house.

“John,” Jim says sternly.  

“Yeah?” John answers.

“It wasn’t pretty… what Aella’s mom did… I have seen things, but this was bad. Would have made the most seasoned hunter lose his breakfast,” Jim warns.

“Who found them?” John asks already knowing the answer. 

“The girl,” Jim confirms. 

“Fuck,” John growls snapping his phone shut ending the conversation.


	13. Chapter 13

Unlocking the door to the pathetic two-bedroom apartment her and her stepbrother call home, Aella is grateful nobody is home. Months ago she would have worried about explaining John’s shirt and the fact that she was gone all night, but not anymore. Long before her stepbrother’s fascination with the motorcycle club, Cyrus stopped noticing or caring what she did.

Shutting her bedroom door, she turns the lock before stripping off her clothes. She never found her underwear, but John’s comment about her parents put her on edge. Although she knew he would eventually demand an explanation, it was not a conversation she wanted to have after spending the night with a puking twelve-year-old boy. Considering she spent most of the night on the bathroom floor, she walks to the shower and turns the hot water on, steam filling the room in minutes.

Staring at John’s shirt draped over her bed, she resists the urge to inhale his scent. Normally she would shower, imagining all of the ways John would leave his mark on her skin. Bruises, hickeys, rubbing his cum over stomach, but the overwhelming relief she felt when she saw him in the kitchen was unsettling. It is like a vise around her throat, a constant reminder that relying on people who have never seen or experienced what she has is foolish and will only lead to disappointment. Disheartened, she quickly showers sliding on fresh sweatpants before settling into bed.

John: Need to talk to you. Come over?

John: Aella?

John: Answer the damn phone

Missed Call John Winchester (4)

Waking to the sound of voices in the kitchen, Aella checks her phone scrolling through the missed calls and text messages. She quickly types a response.

Aella:  Just seeing this. What’s wrong?

The distant sound of glass breaking along with laughter let’s her know her brother has company. John’s name blinks on her phone and she considers the paper-thin walls before hitting the deny button.

Missed Call John Winchester (5)

John: Answer. It’s important.

Aella: Can’t talk. Everything okay? I can be over in 20.

John: Boys are fine. Just get here.

John paces the front room as his anxiety begins to subside. He considered calling Pastor Jim for her address, but knew it would lead to more questions he didn’t want to answer. He could pass his interest in Aella’s wellbeing off as fatherly, but he would be lying to Pastor Jim and himself.

“Can we order pizza for dinner?” Sam’s voice asks. As if sensing John’s agitation, the boys spent the day in the backyard playing with a BB gun bought for them weeks ago. With the weather finally warming, he helped them set up targets and left Dean in charge before retiring to the front room to pour over his neglected research. John agrees and sends Sam off to tell Dean to call and place the order.

Twenty-five minutes later the doorbell rings. John answers eyeing Aella standing on the front porch. In a wrinkled oversized forest green button down, jeans and caramel boots, she looks older, or maybe it is the newfound knowledge of her past. The blouse is rolled just above her elbow and a delicate black camisole peaks out accentuating her collarbone and slight curve of her breasts.  John stares, envisioning his fingers ripping the intricate lace from her skin before she repeats his name. “John!” she shouts. “What is so important?” she asks striding into the front room.

“We need to talk,” he says gravely gesturing for her to sit.


	14. Chapter 14

_We need to talk._ After Aella’s mother murdered her husband and tried to kill herself, every conversation starting with those four short words have been hell. _We need to talk about what you saw that night. We need to talk about the charges against you. We need to talk about your future living arrangements. We need to talk about the nightmares._ Every beginning to a discussion that would leave her hollow, alone, and disturbed.  Further and further from the person she once was, a seventeen-year-old girl worried about passing chemistry and being branded a slut. Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice John’s irritation at the arrival of the pizza deliveryman or the scowl he wears while watching him approach the house, pizza in hand, car nowhere in sight.

The doorbell rings and Sam runs into the room as John unlocks the deadbolt. With a thunderous crash, the door slams open and John is pinned to the wall by a teen in a red and blue polo with the name of a local pizzeria printed on the back. Recognizing the young man, John’s face becomes a hard mask. “Did you really think you could butcher my mate and I wouldn’t find you? Sloppy work from your hunter friend,” the young man seethes, fixated on John.

Aella’s heart pounds in her chest as she watches John struggle against the gangly teen. Without thinking, she quickly moves, silently grabbing Sam’s hand and pulling him behind the couch. From over the intruder’s shoulder, her eyes meet John’s and her stomach drops when she hears Dean’s voice.

“Dad?” he asks questioningly. Aella lunges towards Dean desperate to hide him. Suddenly aware of the boy’s presence, the stranger glances over his shoulder. Aella is shocked when she sees thin sharp jagged teeth and yellow pointy fingernails that can’t possibly be human.

Chaos erupts when John takes advantage of the distraction and jams a syringe into the man’s neck. Standing next to Dean, Aella watches as the thing crumples to the floor. “Dean, tarp,” John orders and suddenly Dean is dragging a large black sheet into the front room. Aella blinks watching John wrap the body, inject it with another syringe and hoist it over his back.

“Sam. Dean. Clean up this mess,” John orders. Ungluing her feet from the floor, Aella closes the front door and helps Sam and Dean toss the ruined pizza into the trash. John returns wiping his hands on a towel, “Fix yourselves a plate and go to your room,” John tells the boys before nodding his head towards the stairs.

Aella quietly watches Sam and Dean grab leftovers from the refrigerator and run upstairs. With the boys gone, she turns to John trying to process what just happened. John leans against the kitchen counter, running his fingers through his hair with an agitated expression. With shallow breaths, she crosses the kitchen, caressing the wet hair at his temple. “You are bleeding,” she says breathlessly her electric blue eyes gazing up at him.


	15. Chapter 15

Adrenaline pumps though John’s veins and it takes all of his self-control not to lift her off the floor, set her on the counter and devour her pink plush mouth. Instead he closes his eyes, feeling the soft flutter of her fingers gently stroking his matted hair. His eyes are still closed when she withdraws her hand and replaces it with a cool wet towel. After she wipes away the blood, he opens his eyes reminding himself why she is here.

She lets him lead her to the front room and sits on the couch legs drawn underneath her. Wondering how she is so calm, he clears his throat before beginning, “That man…” he says uncertainly.

“That wasn’t a man,” she states.

“No, it was a vampire,” John clarifies watching her face carefully. “Vampires are real. Demons are real. Most of the things that go bump in the night are real. That is what I do. That is why I am gone all the time. I hunt them,” he explains. “It is why you are spending your community service watching my boys,” he says cautiously.

Her eyes narrow, “What are you talking about?” she asks.

“Pastor Jim told me your mom said angels made her kill your stepfather,” John answers. He sees the doubt in her eyes and hates that he has to be the one to do this. “It’s possible she was mentally ill or it is possible that if demons exist…”

“Angels do too,” she whispers finishing his sentence. “Why would they do that?” she asks heartbroken.

“We aren’t even sure that’s what happened. Jim didn’t get a chance to talk to you your mom…” John begins.

“Before she killed herself,” Aella answers her voice hard the uncertainty in her eyes burned away, replaced with resentment. She unfolds her legs scanning the room for her car keys.

“Aella…” John begins

She stares at him expectantly, but he doesn’t say anything. “So you hunt things. You go on weekend trips and kill vampires. You come back and it is just another day in the life …”

“It is just a job,” John says angrily.

“And sometimes these things follow you home, but hey that’s no big deal, because you can handle it,” she continues clearly pissed. “I am glad it is working out so well for you. I can assure you that was not my experience. Did you know my stepfather was still alive when I found them? My mom carved, sliced and diced at him for hours and he was still conscious when I found him. I was there when she slit her wrists. I was there when she died. Do you have any idea what that feels like?” she asks.

“I do,” John answers stoically.

Aella stops and stares at him skeptically.

“My wife, Mary. A demon pinned her to the celling and burned our house down,” John says eyes hooded. Torn between sympathy and anger the crush of emotions is too much for her. “I need to go,” she says scooping up her keys; rushing out the door she isn’t surprised when John doesn’t try to stop her.


	16. Chapter 16

Aella: I am sorry

John: You didn’t know

Aella: I am still sorry

Aella: What do I do now?

John: Finish your community service. Go to college. Live an apple pie life

Aella: I can’t do that

Aella lies on her bed staring at her phone. An apple pie life. As if there is any future where she doesn’t end up strung out on drugs, institutionalized or both. When she hears a belch and round of laughter from the living room, she turns over deciding maybe it’s time to pay the church another visit.

Aella walks into the vestibule, her gaze pulled to the multicolored stained glass window of St. Peter holding a key with a self-righteous expression. Running her eyes over the wall she defaced months ago, she is interrupted by a familiar voice. “I can’t say I expected to see you back here,” Pastor Jim says from over her shoulder. “At least not without a can of spray paint,” Jim finishes. 

“I shouldn’t have vandalized your church, but it sounds like I didn’t entirely miss my mark,” she responds.

“You talked to John,” he states unapologetically.

“You should have told me,” she says angrily before finally turning towards him. His light brown hair, long face and vestments hang from his thin body.

“And you would have believed me?” he retorts.

Aella opens her mouth to argue before closing it. “No,” she admits. “I wouldn’t have believed you had I not seen it myself,” she says coolly.

“An angel?” Jim asks disturbed.

“No,” Aella clarifies, “Something else,” she begins before the heavy wooden doors open and two women make their way to a table with lit candles.  

“Follow me,” Pastor Jim instructs leading her towards an alcove and done a narrow set of stairs. Realizing they are in the crypt, she follows him through the winding catacombs until eventually they stand in front of a large door. Pastor Jim digs in his robes locating a key and unlocking the door. He pushes it open and serrated knives gleam, guns with dozens of accessories, and a crossbow hang from the wall. An arsenal accompanied by a shelf with unmarked jars and stacks of books. Running her fingers over the dusty tomes, she flips through one with furrowed brow. Deep in thought, she doesn’t realize John has arrived and is standing next to Pastor Jim. “Can I borrow this?” she asks turning towards the two men.

“Of course,” “Absolutely not,” they both answer simultaneously.

Realizing John is present, she stares at him confused. He looks angry and his hands are jammed into his coat pockets. “You are welcome to borrow it,” Pastor Jim says.

“Thank you,” Aella answers hugging the book to her chest. “I am going to go,” she announces glancing uncertainly between the two of them before making her way back towards the staircase.

“What are you thinking, Jim?” John shouts as soon as she out of earshot.

“I was thinking the last time she was here she vandalized half my Church. So when she comes back and wants to borrow a book? I much prefer that over graffiti,” he counters.

“The more she learns the deeper in this life she is going to get. Knowing won’t be enough. She will want to hunt and I think you know that,” he yells.

“And if she does? There are plenty of hunters who would teach her and the Lord knows we could use more,” he says.

“I’ll be damned if I let anyone else teach her,” he says possessively.

“I think you should consider where you stand on this very carefully,” Pastor Jim warns.

John grimaces thinking he knows exactly where he stands when it comes to Aella. Finding her alone with Pastor Jim sent waves of jealousy through him and the thought of another man teaching her how to hunt was enough to make him want to punch a hole in the wall. Realizing he is very close to doing or saying something he will regret, he turns to leave.


	17. Chapter 17

John tried to distract himself with research, but he fantasized about Aella every night, especially when his hand was wrapped around his hard dick imagining pounding into her warm body. Almost two weeks passed before he texted her.

John: Need you to watch the boys Sunday

Aella: What time?

John: Around 1

Aella read John’s reply before turning back to the book Pastor Jim let her borrow. It was the size of a dictionary with impossibly small font, but she was more interested in the pictures, sigils and markings each with their own purpose and history. When she first picked up the dusty tome and flipped through the pages, she immediately recognized one of the symbols. It had been crudely carved into her stepfather’s forehead. Days blurred together as she locked herself in her room after school and poured over the book, but when she realized she would be seeing Sam and Dean soon, she set it to the side. She had attributed Sam and Dean’s obedience to John’s strict parenting, but when Sam wasn’t freaked out by the vampire and Dean immediately followed John’s orders, she wondered how often they were in situations where questions meant life or death. With a sigh, she returned to her book after setting an alarm on her phone.

When the doorbell rings, John sits frozen staring at the entryway. Sam and Dean race down the stairs before flinging the door open.  “Hey boys,” Aella greets with a half smile. She walks into the front room and notices John sitting on the couch. “Kind of early for a hunt” she comments. Pulled from his stupor, he responds, “No hunt. I need to a see a friend in Sioux Falls. I should be back by dark,” he explains. 

“Oh,” she says surprised. “Well, I brought dinner just in case,” she says motioning outside. “I’ll just go get the groceries and toss them in the fridge,” she answers, Sam and Dean trailing behind her to help.

Standing in the driveway, she takes a deep breath of fresh air and closes her eyes. John looks even better than she remembered. His plain white t-shirt emphasizes the muscles in his arms and wisps of chest hair peek out from the deep V-neck. Dark denim stretches over his thighs and she has to remind herself they aren’t alone to keep from walking over to him, planting herself in his lap, and straddling him. 

“We got dinner!” Sam shouts clutching the brown paper bag filled with groceries.

“Great!” Aella responds too quickly. 

Walking back into the house as John prepares to leave, he tells the boys he’ll give Bobby their best and makes his way to his black truck.  Aella grabs the heavy bag from Sam. “I didn’t just bring dinner,” she says walking to the kitchen. “I also brought the ingredients for … cookies!” she says after a dramatic pause. When Sam and Dean smile uncertainly, her heart aches thinking they deserve a little normal in their lives.

It is just after dark when Aella sees John’s headlights in the driveway. John unlocks the door and she continues reading silently acknowledging his arrival. John stares at her noticing the curve of her tits but also admiring the way her thick eyelashes splay against her cheeks and gold strands of hair frame her face. She is stunning even when she is doing the most mundane shit. 

Walking towards the sofa, he gently cups her jaw with his massive hand tilting her face up towards him. She closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of his velvety palm against her cheek. “Where are the boys?” John asks.

“Upstairs. They are eating cookies and finishing their homework,” she answers with bedroom eyes.

“They are going to get fat,” John says collapsing onto the sofa next to her.

“They are preteens John, they can eat half a dozen cookies,” she lectures in a tone he has never heard before.

A smile pulls at his lips, “I am not paying you to fatten up my kids,” he goads her.

“You aren’t paying me at all,” she counters in a sultry tone, tucking the book under her arm as she heads upstairs to say bye. She pauses halfway on the stairs, “I have school tomorrow. Text me if you need me,” she informs him.


	18. Chapter 18

Running late to school, Aella rolls through a stop sign when her phone begins to ring. She digs through her bag hitting accept after she frowns at the unknown number. “Hello?” she answers. 

“This is Connie Herrera, Principal at Blue Earth Middle School. I am sitting with Sam Winchester here in my office. Is this Aella Carter?” the stranger asks in a stern voice.

“Is something wrong?” Aella asks frantically not even noticing the woman has her last name wrong.

“There was an incident and we can’t reach John Winchester. You are listed as Sam’s emergency contact,” she explains.

Cradling the phone between her ear and her neck, she makes an illegal turn and drives towards the middle school. “I’ll be right there,” she responds. 

Walking through the glass doors, she rushes to the principal’s office and finds Sam sitting in a chair with scratches on his arms, a black eye and his arm in a sling. “Sammy!” she says kneeling in front of him. “Are you okay?” she asks gently pushing his hair back from his face.

“Aella?” a woman with black curly hair and a buttoned up cardigan asks. She holds a file close to her chest and wears a severe expression. “I’m Principal Herrera. We spoke on the phone. I was expecting an adult,” she says skeptically.

“What happened?” Aella demands as she stands glaring at the woman.

“Come into my office,” she instructs.

Aella places her hand reassuringly on Sam’s shoulder as they weave through desks and walk into a large office. Taking a seat in the hard uncomfortable chair, Aella can’t help but feel like she is the one in trouble, but another look at Sam’s injuries sends a surge of anger through her body.

“Sam was involved in a fist fight in the hall before second period,” Ms. Herrera says succinctly.

“I told you I didn’t start it,” Sam insists.

The woman’s eyes snap to Sam angrily. “Regardless, a fellow student and Sam were involved in an altercation. Unfortunately, we have a zero tolerance policy and Sam will be suspended for two days,” she say unapologetically.

Aella’s gaze narrows angrily. “How old was this fellow student?” she questions.

“He is a sixth grader,” Ms. Herrera replies uncomfortably.

“And where was the hall monitor?” Aella probes. When Principal Herrera doesn’t immediately respond, Aella presses, “You do still have hall monitors here, don’t you?” she asks cuttingly.

“Mr. Flood was taking a smoke break,” she admits avoiding Aella’s gaze.

“So let me make sure I understand. The hall monitor, Mr. Flood, was taking a smoke break and during that time Sam was assaulted by a twelve year old in a corridor that should have been supervised?” she asks.

“That is one version of…” Principal Herrera begins.

“And because of that you want to suspend Sam. After he has already told you he was attacked,” Aella finishes.

“Are you the boy’s mother?” Principal Herrera snaps, “Because I have to admit, I find it highly unusual that a high school student was listed as Sam’s emergency contact. You are only here because we could not reach Mr. Winchester,” she says angrily.

“Oh trust me, you would much rather deal with me,” Aella counters.

“You aren’t going to suspend Sam. You are going to put a very clear and specific note in his file that he was involved in a confrontation, but was not the instigator. I am going to take Sam to the doctor and have his injuries examined and, for your sake, I hope this is the last discussion we have about the incident,” Aella states adamantly, her eyes burning.

“Come on, Sam,” Aella says not waiting for a response, guiding him out of the office.

“Are you okay?” Aella asks gently after Sam buckles himself in the passenger seat.

“I just want to go home,” Sam says softly.

“Let’s go home,” Aella encourages.

Hoping she doesn’t get in trouble for skipping school, Aella wonders where the hell John is as she pulls up to the house. When Sam unlocks the door, she finds the kitchen and the front room empty. Following Sam upstairs, she tells him to change while she finds a first aid kit. Opening the white metallic box, she disinfects his cuts. “Are you really taking me to the doctor?” Sam asks wincing at the stinging pain.

“I was bluffing, but I will if you want me to,” she says dabbing at the scratches.

“No,” Sam says softly.

“We will get some ice on your eye and a few aspirin,” she says inspecting his bruise.   

“Is your shoulder okay?” she asks concerned.

“I think so. It hurt and the nurse didn’t want me moving it around,” he explains.

“Let’s keep the sling on for now,” Aella decides.

“Are you okay?” she asks staring at him.

“I told him I wouldn’t write his social studies paper,” Sam confesses. 

“He is a bully. You did the right thing. I am sorry you got hurt,” Aella states sincerely.

“I am glad you picked me up instead of Dad,” Sam admits.

“I can’t imagine your father has an abundance of patience,” Aella says bitterly wondering for the tenth time where John is and how she is going to explain why she is at home with Sam on a Monday morning. 


	19. Chapter 19

Aella gently pushes Sam’s hair back from his forehead as he sleeps. After taking two aspirin, eating three chocolate chip cookies and talking extensively about his coin collection, he decided to take a nap. When Aella hears the front door open, she leaves Sam resting, softly closing the door to his room.

“What the hell is going on?” John asks as she walks down the stairs. “I got a call from Principal Herrera telling me she hopes Sam feels well enough to come school tomorrow,” he says confused.

“Sam got beat up at school. They couldn’t get a hold of you and I was listed as his emergency contact,” she says questioningly. “I picked him up and brought him home,” Aella explains.

“Is he okay?” John asks.

“He is resting. He won’t admit it, but he is upset,” Aella says. “Herrera threatened to suspend him,” Aella adds crossing her arms over her chest.

“Fuck,” John curses.

“How did you convince her not to?” he asks in disbelief.

“Sam was attacked by a sixth grader in a hall that was unsupervised because some asshole was taking a smoke break. I didn’t really give her a choice. The fight will be on his record with a note saying he didn’t start it. Let’s hope that’s enough to keep your social worker bitch at bay,” she sighs walking into the front room.

Aella watches as John realizes the state could claim Sam was acting out and try and place him in a more stable household. “It all worked out,” she reassures as she heads to the kitchen. “You might want to consider updating Sam’s emergency contact. I am sure once this blows over, Herrera is going to ask you why a senior from Blue Earth Prep came to get Sam,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh.

“No. Fuck it. They can deal with it,” John answers bitterly. Satisfaction unfurls inside of her as she lifts herself onto the kitchen counter staring at John.

“Where were you?” she asks curiously, sitting with her hands in her lap scanning him from head to toe wondering why he didn’t answer his phone when the school called.

“I was with Pastor Jim. In the crypt. He thinks there is a case in town,” John explains. 

“A case?” Aella asks.

“Yeah. Vengeful spirit. Sometimes they don’t move on and become violent. They are usually tethered to something: their bones or an object,” John says carefully watching her face, her eyes gleaming inquisitively.

“How do you get them to move on?” she probes.

“Salt and burn. It’s pretty easy as far as cases go. Most spirits aren’t strong enough to do too much damage. We’ll try the corpse first,” he clarifies.

Expecting her to ask if she can come with, he is surprised when instead she says, “Does that mean you’ll need me to watch the boys?” lifting the coffee mug sitting next to her to her lips. “I can’t imagine burning corpses is something you do during the day,” she adds before taking a sip.

“No, it’s not,” he responds with a smirk, “And probably. Not till Wednesday night though,” he clarifies.

“You know,” Aella begins, setting the coffee mug on the counter next to her avoiding John’s gaze, “I recognized some of the symbols in the book Pastor Jim let me borrow,” she confesses. “Most of the angel wardings require the symbols to be drawn in blood, but I found one for demons,” she continues.

“You did?” he questions staring at her in disbelief.

“Yeah. It protects against demonic possession, but considering amulets and charms aren’t reliable, I was thinking, if someone had it tattooed to their body, literally inked with their blood mixed in … would it be more permanent?” she finishes.

Watching as John deliberates, he finally says, “You might be right. I’ll talk to Jim about it,” he responds shocked he didn’t think of it himself.

“Good,” she answers her plush mouth smiling.

“So where would one get this anti-possession tattoo?” John asks smoothly stepping closer to the counter almost bumping against her knees.

“I guess it would depend,” she says glancing up at him from under her thick eyelashes, slowly spreading her legs. Frustrated by how easy it would be for her to wrap her legs around his waist if she wasn’t sitting to far back, he teases, “Where would you get it?” staring into her clear blue eyes.

Meeting his gaze, she rests her left hand on his chest over his heart, “I would get it here,” she says softly her fingers gently stroking his t-shirt. John immediately hardens and before he can cup her ass and pull her flush against him, her phone rings from the front room.

“Shit,” she curses pushing herself off the counter not even pausing to enjoy the way she slides down John’s hard body.

“What is it?” he growls.

“Cyrus. He never calls unless he is angry,” she explains searching for her phone following the sound of a uniquely annoying ring tone. Finally locating her phone, she hits reject. “I should go,” she says. “Tell Sammy I said bye,” she orders and in seconds she is gone.

John leans against the counter resting his arm on a cabinet overhead realizing he has a huge problem. Not only is she fucking hot, she is taking care of his kids like a champ, and thinking of hunter shit he should have thought of years ago. What he can’t decide is whether every time he sees her is misery or if he is miserable until the next time he sees her.


	20. Chapter 20

With her stomach in knots, Aella unlocks the door and sees Cyrus standing in the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen. He is tall but at twenty-two he is still built like the gangly teen she met five years ago when her mom married his dad.

“The school called,” he says disinterestedly turning towards the kitchen. 

“Something came up,” she responds before following him, surprised to find him alone.

“That’s what I told them,” he informs her taking a seat at the table reaching for his half empty beer. 

“Thanks,” she responds. Her relief is cut short when he says, “I’m throwing you a birthday party at the club on Friday,” after taking a long sip of beer. 

She clenches her jaw trying not to glare. “I don’t know any of your friends,” she objects.

“It doesn’t matter. You are the guest of honor,” he says dismissively, leveling her a challenging gaze. Irritated, she tries to think of a reason she can’t go. As if reading her mind, Cyrus presses, “You are going. Tell that garbage family you babysit you aren’t free,” he orders. 

“Fine,” Aella says tersely keeping her face blank before walking to her room.

Tuesday passes and Aella finds herself driving to John’s house feeling guilty. She hasn’t asked John about Sam and she is sure Dean was angry when he found out what happened. Before she can ring the doorbell John answers, a comforting sight in his jeans, work boots and plaid button down layered over a Henley. “Come in,” he greets holding the door open for her.

“How are Sam and Dean?” she asks finding the front room and kitchen empty.

“They are good. I just about cleaned out the pharmacy buying them comic books,” John says.

“I didn’t have a chance to pick anything up. Are there still leftovers?” she asks.

“I cooked,” John replies leading her towards the kitchen. 

“You cook?” she asks unable to keep the disbelief from her voice. 

“I am not totally useless,” John responds with mock offense.

“I didn’t... I just...,” she begins. 

“Hey, I am just giving you a hard time,” he says giving her a concerned look. “I just meant you don’t have to come over here and cook and clean. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much nicer the house looks lately. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he backtracks.

“Thanks,” she says sincerely. 

“Anyways, the boys are fed and upstairs probably arguing over superheroes. I should be back in a couple of hours,” he says. 

“I’ll be here,” she says with a sad smile realizing she feels more at home at John’s house then at the apartment she shares with Cyrus. 

Sam and Dean eventually migrate to the front room and continue their debate over who is the strongest superhero. With Pastor Jim’s book in her lap, the night passes in relative silence before she sends them to bed. 

When John unlocks the door and walks inside, she frowns noticing his hand is clamped over his right forearm. “What’s wrong?” she asks not moving from her cozy spot on the couch. He pulls his hand away and his palm is stained with blood. “You’re bleeding,” she states, setting the book to the side before standing so she can inspect his arm. 

“It was supposed to be a salt and burn, but our spirit was a little more vengeful than I expected,” he says grimacing as her fingers flutter over the gash in his arm. Leading him to the kitchen, she reaches under the sink for the first aid kit. Setting the metallic box on the table, she pulls her hair back into a low bun before gently probing his injury with her fingers. “I thought Pastor Jim was going with you,” she says reaching for a cotton gauze and bottle of disinfectant. “He couldn’t make it,” John replies wincing from the sting as she cleans his wound. “It is kind of deep. I think you might need stitches,” she says glancing up at him uncertainly trying to staunch the bleeding. 

“I can stitch it up myself,” he answers rummaging through case.

“Are you left handed?” she asks. 

“No, but it’s just a few stitches,” he responds awkwardly trying to thread needled with one hand. 

“I’ll do it,” she answers removing the gauze satisfied when blood no longer gushes from his arm. 

“You sure?” John asks staring at her in disbelief as she takes the needle from his hand.

“Yeah,” she answers with a confident stare.

She lowers her eyes to his arm, piercing his skin with the needle sewing the flaps together. With six quick sutures, Aella ties off the stitches and applies a clean pad of gauze affixing it to his skin with medical tape. “I know you aren’t totally useless, but you should really have someone watching your back,” she teases lightheartedly.

Without thinking, John says “Maybe I will take you with me,” watching her repack the case and throw away the bloody cotton.

“Maybe,” she answers coyly with a smile.

Seconds pass in silence before she asks, “You don’t need me Friday, right?” suddenly remembering the party.

“No. Why?” John asks curiously.

“My step-brother is throwing me a birthday party,” she says irritably.

“It’s your birthday?” John asks.

“Saturday,” Aella clarifies. “My birthday is the anniversary of my mom going crazy and killing his dad and he knows I hate attention,” she says bitterly.

“Then don’t go,” John offers.

“I don’t want to make him mad. Especially since after Saturday, I will be looking for a new place to live. In the eyes of the state, I will be an adult and I don’t want to be around when Cyrus figures out the monthly checks aren’t coming in anymore,” she says nervously adjusting the cuff of her gray hoodie.

“What are you going to do?” John asks.

“I’m not sure. I am going to talk to Pastor Jim,” she says hopefully. John makes a noise that vaguely passes for approving. Displeased she didn’t think to ask him first, he opens the refrigerator and reaches for a bottle of water.

“Well. I am going to get going,” she says watching him carefully.

“Yeah. See you,” John says dispassionately, avoiding her gaze.


	21. Chapter 21

Standing in the club, dressed in a cream silk camisole tucked into her tight high waisted jeans and black wedge boots, Aella resists the urge to tug at the sleeves of her black leather jacket. When she refused to wear a dress to the run down armory the gang bought from the National Guard, Cyrus was pissed. A shitty excuse for a headquarters, the inside is just as unimpressive as the outside. A row of parked motorcycles had already formed when they arrive, guarded by a member who didn't look old enough to grow facial hair. Reluctantly following Cyrus inside, his friends barely acknowledged her. Almost an hour later a handful of girls her age arrived. Aella tried to talk to them, but their glassy eyes and odd comments about her birthday present left her with an unsettling feeling. She sipped at her beer grimacing at the taste. When music started blaring from a stereo, she found a corner to stand in content to let the other girls grind on each other and put on a show.

After discreetly pouring some of her beer onto the already sticky floor, Cyrus approaches. With an unfocused smile, he says, “Hey sis. Having fun?” noticing her half empty solo cup.

“Yeah. Tons,” she responds sarcastically.

“Blaze! Get over here!” Cyrus shouts. Blaze is shorter than her stepbrother, but all muscle. She scans the patches on his leather vest while he stares at her tits. Glaring at her brother in outrage, Cyrus just laughs before nudging Blaze’s arm getting his attention. “Blaze!” Cyrus yells. “Get the birthday girl another drink,” Cyrus says while laughing.

“She isn’t done with that one,” Blaze adds slurring his words.

Aella takes a large gulp finishing off the rest of her beer before shoving the cup into his chest. “I am going to find a bathroom,” she says heading towards a corridor.  A few feet down the hall, she starts to feel dizzy, the blaring music distant and muffled. Locking herself in the bathroom she reaches for her phone and texts John.

Aella: Something’s wrong. Come get me. 

John: What is it?

Aella: I don’t feel right.

Sitting on the toilet seat cover, Aella desperately tries to stay awake. Ten minutes later, pounding on the door jolts her from her lethargy. “Aella?” Blaze yells. He tries the handle, but she doesn’t answer. The doorknob stops rattling and minutes later she hears Cyrus’ voice through the door. “Aella? You okay?” he asks in a voice she vaguely remembers him using when they were little.

She opens the door and finds him standing in the hall. “Cy, I don’t feel well,” she says.

“Come on out,” he says softly motioning for her to come out of the bathroom. He wraps his hand around her upper arm and with a frown she realizes he is leading her further into the armory.

“Cy,” she protests and his fingers suddenly dig into her skin. “What are you doing?” she shouts, looking over her shoulder down the corridor, Blaze and another member following them. “Stop!” she yells jerking against him.

When he slaps her across the face, her world stops. “You are such a stuck-up cunt. You know that?” he says angrily. “Now you are going to get fucked six ways from Sunday and I am finally going to be a member. No more recruit shit. Happy Birthday,” he growls.

Her cheek burns and anger courses through her as she realizes what is about to happen. Balling her hand into a fist, she stops walking. When Cyrus turns towards her, she punches him in the nose pain exploding in her hand. Blood pours down his face and she grabs his shoulder ramming him into the wall. Blaze wraps his arms around her chest as she thrashes against him. Throwing him slightly off balance she thrusts her elbow into his side. She hears a grunt and pushes him over Cyrus’ bent form. The man she doesn’t recognize stands between her and the partygoers and she can see the exit over his shoulder.

“You don’t want to do this,” she tells him.

“Oh, trust me. I do,” he says suddenly lunging for her. He pins her against the wall, hands at her throat, her feet kicking uselessly. She screams at herself not to pass out as tiny pinpricks dance in front of her eyes. Without warning, he releases her and she falls to her hands and knees struggling to breathe. Staring up from the floor, she sees John trapping him against the wall. John glances back at Aella as she stands, her hands wrapped around her neck as she desperately sucks in air.

“She leaves with me. Don’t try and stop us,” John threatens. Not waiting for a response, they quickly walk through the party towards the exit. John opens the passenger side door, helping her into the seat before walking around the truck and sliding behind the wheel.

John glances over at Aella. With her head tilted back and eyes closed, he assumes her adrenaline is wearing off. The two men struggling to stand at the end of the hall didn’t trip over themselves. He glances over at her again; proud she was able to fight them off before he got there. The drive back is too short and soon they are sitting in the driveway. Minutes pass before Aella says “Thank you,” her voice scratchy.

“You’re welcome,” John responds. 

“Sam and Dean?” Aella asks.

“They are sleeping. Don’t worry,” John reassures before she reaches for the car door handle. John silently leads her upstairs to his bedroom. Rummaging through his dresser, he pulls out a t-shirt and hands it to her. Wincing when she shrugs off her jacket, she kicks off her boots and pulls the camisole over her head. After sliding her jeans down, she stands in the middle of the room wearing only her underwear.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 90% Smut/10% Plot

John stares at Aella, her perky tits with rosy buds and her toned stomach flaring into curvy hips. Her firm plump ass swallows the black fabric of her panties. Sliding his t-shirt over her head, it skims the tops of her slim thighs. She stares at him before crossing the room. Resting her hands on his waist, she tilts her head up and stares at him before pressing her mouth against his. 

He is caught by surprise and she hesitantly tastes his lips before his hand is tangled in her hair, pulling her body against his. Despite her haze, sensations rush her: softness, warmth, and the need to feel John slamming into her, deliciously filling and stretching her.

He gently tugs her head to the side and slides his tongue into her mouth, his kiss demanding and rough. When her hard nipples rub against his chest, he swallows a groan and she can feel his erection against her stomach. Before she can reach for his zipper, he sinks his fingers into the soft skin of her hip and walks her backwards to the bed. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she lands on the mattress. He stands over her as she sits on the edge of the bed and cups her jaw with the palm of his hand, tilting her face up towards his. She closes her eyes and practically purrs before catching his thumb with her mouth and suckling softly.

The warm wet sensation of plush lips wrapped around his thumb, almost sends him over the edge, but he drags the words from his lips, “Kitten, whatever they drugged you with is probably still in your system. You need to stop,” he whispers. 

Her eyes flutter open and she stares at him with longing.

“When I fuck you, I am going to ruin you and I want you to remember every second of it,” he says huskily rubbing his thumb over her lower lip.

She closes her eyes again and whispers, “Stay,” reveling in his touch.

John gently rubs his thumb over her cheek before she lies back on the bed and curls on her side. With her back towards him, John sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He scans the room glancing over his shoulder at the bedroom door.

“Stay,” she repeats, her voice insistent.

John pulls his shirt over his head and unbuckles his pants. Sliding into bed, he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into his chest. He feels the rise and fall of her chest and smells her hair before closing his eyes. Fuck it, he decides telling himself he will deal with it in the morning.  

John wakes to the sound of water running. Squinting, he sees Aella walk out of the bathroom rubbing her tired eyes. “You okay?” he asks sleepily. 

“Needed some water,” she says listlessly. 

“Not what I meant,” John clarifies pushing himself up into a sitting position resting his arms on his knees. John watches as she walks over to the bed, sitting next to him with her back against the headboard wearing a pensive expression. “I’ll go get your things tomorrow,” he says avoiding her gaze.

“I’ll go with you,” she quickly adds.

“Aella your stepbrother drugged you and tried to gang rape you,” John says harshly glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Right. He and I have things to talk about. I am going with you,” she insists in an uncompromising tone.

John sighs, “Alright,” and leans back against the bedframe, both of them staring across the room. “We will get you set up here,” John continues.

“What?” she asks confused.

“We will get you set up here. This house isn’t huge, but we’ll make it work,” he repeats.

“John. No. I can’t live with you. This is a three-bedroom house. I was going to talk to Pastor Jim,” Aella answers in an incredulous tone.  

“Well the way I see it, you can talk to Pastor Jim and hope he can set you up somewhere, Sam and Dean can sleep in my bed and you can have Sam’s room, or you can sleep in my bed. Every night,” John outlines.

Without looking, he can sense the smile tugging at her lips. He turns towards her and finds her laughing and shaking her head. “I mean you are 18 right?” he asks, “I know which one I prefer,” John says before gently cradling her face with both hands kissing her deeply. 

“This is a terrible idea,” she says breathlessly her eyes half open.

“To terrible ideas,” John says pulling her into his lap.

She straddles him as he continues to probe her mouth with his tongue. She rubs against him desperate for friction to relieve the tension between her legs. His hands drift down towards the edge of her shirt as he pushes it up, her hips grinding against him. She is soaking and his hands move achingly slow as he lifts the shirt higher finally pulling it over her head. Taking her breasts in his hands, he pinches her nipples, rolling them between his fingers before placing one in his mouth.

“John,” she cries aching for him.

His tongue flicks over the tight bud before sucking. His hands run down her sides, clutching her hips before his fingers dip into her panties. “Please,” she moans desperately just before he rubs his thumb over her sensitive clit. “John,” she warns as he slides a finger along her slit feeling how wet she already is for him.

“You are such a good girl,” he whispers in her ear. The pressure building between her legs is painful and she writhes in his lap. Scooping her up in his arms, he lays her on her back. Kissing down her stomach, he peels of her wet panties, his mouth hovering over her core.

“Good girl,” she repeats enthralled.

His presses his mouth against her entrance and she closes her eyes. Spreading her thighs apart he sucks, tasting her before flicking his tongue inside of her. “John,” she gasps and when his beard bristles against her inner thighs, his mouth latched onto her, alternating with tongue with his long fingers, she digs her fingers into the bedspread, crying out his name before climaxing.


	23. Chapter 23

Aella watches water circle the drain while she showers in John’s bathroom. Soon they will be at her apartment to collect her things. Her stomach lurches at the thought of seeing Cyrus and what he had planned for her last night. Staying with John is a bad idea for so many reasons, but she is tired of living one foot in the past the other in the future. Memories of her life before her mother butchered her stepfather and anxiety over an uncertain future before Cyrus was officially deemed her guardian. The present is all she has and bad idea or not she’s accepted John’s offer. Whatever the consequences, she’ll deal with it. Turning off the water, she realizes she isn’t weak, something Cyrus will never understand until she makes it abundantly clear.

She pulls a clean white t-shirt over her head before tossing the camisole in the trash. The shirt is baggy but she ties it off and zippers her leather jacket, hiding the finger shaped bruises on neck. Walking to the bedroom door, she freezes when the doorbell rings. Standing on the landing, she pauses.

“Good Morning Ms. Sanchez,” John greets.

She forgets how to breathe as she scans the upstairs searching for any evidence she spent the night. 

“No, now is a perfect time for a visit,” John’s voice carries up the stairs.

She pulls herself together realizing the longer she waits the harder it will be to explain. Walking down the stairs, she finds John and Tabitha standing in the front room. It’s the weekend, but Tabitha wears a blazer, a thick docket tucked under her arm.

“Good Morning,” Aella greets.

“Aella, what are you doing here? Were you watching the boys overnight?” Tabitha asks suspiciously. Yes would be the most logical answer, but Tabitha would assume John was out all night neglecting Sam and Dean.

“Actually no,” Aella interrupts before John can interject. “I am helping a friend move and John is letting me borrow his truck,” she explains sticking to the truth as much as possible. “I had to use the restroom. Too much coffee. You know how it is,” Aella continues with what she hopes is a self-conscious smile. “I just need the keys,” she finishes glancing at John hoping he has caught on. Relieved, she watches as he digs into his back pocket and tosses her his keys. With his jaw clenched, she can tell he isn’t happy, but insisting he accompany her would be suspicious. “Thank you,” she acknowledges after catching the keys turning towards the front door.

“Aella,” John’s voice warns.

Halting, she looks back at him. “Bring her back in one piece okay?” he cautions.

“That’s the plan,” she assures before swinging the door open and leaving John and Tabitha to their visit. 

Aella unlocks the door and walks into the hall, disappointed when she finds the apartment empty. Pulling a duffel bag from under her bed, she quickly packs clothes and a few books. Three bags later, her belongings are crammed into a duffel bag, backpack and military surplus army bag her mom used to own. She drags them to the car and tosses them into the truck bed before walking back to the house for her backpack. She scans the living room and kitchen finding only beer bottles and fast food wrappers. Just as she is about to leave, the front door opens. Her heart beats loudly in her chest and her palms sweat when she hears the familiar clink of keys being tossed onto the entryway table. Standing in the kitchen, she realizes this may be her only chance to confront Cyrus and send him a message in the language only he understands.

She grabs a kitchen knife and when Cyrus turns the corner, she catches him off guard. Pushing him against the wall, she holds the knife inches from his right eye. He is almost a foot taller than her, but stands perfectly still.

“Hi brother,” she says with a smile.

“Aella,” Cyrus says eyes trained on the blade pressed dangerously close to his face.

“Don’t worry, I was just leaving,” she says in a honeyed tone. “As you well know, I am eighteen years old, Cyrus. That means no more checks from the state,” she pauses letting the statement sink into his brain. “I am moving out. If you ever come after me, make trouble for me, or even talk to me, I will kill you. I will make what happened to your daddy look like a paper cut. I will carve you up and all that will be left will be bloody nubs. Putting you together will be like a jigsaw, that is if anyone even finds you,” she says melodiously.

Watching him blanch, she nicks his neck, satisfied when a droplet of blood runs down his neck.  

“Nod so I know you understand,” she threatens.

When he nods she nicks him again. “Oops,” she says eyes bright watching the blood stain his shirt. Stepping away slowly, she keeps a firm grip on the knife. “It’s over,” she says seriously before heading for the door. Slamming it behind her, she stows the knife in her backpack and walks quickly to the truck without a backwards glance.


	24. Chapter 24

John sits at the kitchen table stunned. Tabitha didn’t doubt Aella for one second. John offered Tabitha a cup of coffee just as Sam and Dean came downstairs completely unaware Aella spent the night. After talking to each of them, Tabitha informed him she was notified Sam was involved in a confrontation at school. Preparing himself for the worst, he was shocked when she said Principal Herrera insisted Sam was a model student and the victim in the altercation. Tabitha stated she no longer felt the need to check in monthly and would include the recommendation to move to quarterly visits in her report. John hadn’t even considered Tabitha’s visits and the potential complication when he told Aella she could stay with him.

Without promises, assurances or expectations, Aella had accepted his offer. Aella wasn't naïve and although he knew in his gut she deserved better, he couldn’t deny he preferred her with him than wherever Pastor Jim managed to set her up. Skipping the details, John told the boys Aella could no longer live at home and would be living with them. When Dean asked if that meant she would be cooking every night, he tried not to laugh and sternly told them he expected them to help out around the house, insisting she wasn’t their maid or personal chef.

After they ate breakfast, John sent them outside so he could sit and think. The sound of the doorbell pulls him from his thoughts. Standing with a duffel bag over her shoulder and a backpack, John takes the bag from her.

“Guess you are going to be needing a key?” he says setting it down near the stairs.

“Guess so,” Aella agrees. “There is one more in the truck,” she tells John.

“I’ll grab it in a minute,” John responds.

“Dean saved you pancakes. Be warned, I think he is trying to butter you up for future meals,” John says. 

Walking into the kitchen, she says, “So you told them?” grabbing a fork.

“I did,” John says placing the plate in the microwave.

“Good,” she says with a small smile.

“What?” John asks giving her a confused look.

“Nothing,” she laughs.

“It’s just…” she begins. 

“Good?” he finishes.

“Yeah,” she answers with a content smile.


	25. Chapter 25

John sat in his truck, scanning the parking lot. He would rather threaten Cyrus at night, but it can’t wait. They sat at the kitchen table while Aella ate and John tried not to stare. Instead, he brought her up to speed on Tabitha’s visit, attempting to ignore the violent red finger-shaped bruises on her neck and arms.

When she finished eating and started rinsing her plate, he casually mentioned he had errands to run and would take care of getting her car. Confused, she asked how he was going to manage driving his truck and her car, but he insisted he would handle it. After she gave him her keys, he grabbed a bag of frozen peas for her to hold against the contusions, wishing he had noticed her injuries sooner. 

John stopped by the church and asked Pastor Jim to send someone over to retrieve her car before making his way to Aella’s old apartment complex. Almost an hour later, Cyrus emerged, glancing over his shoulder as he walked purposefully to his motorcycle. John slips from his truck, silently following him towards the bike. “Hey Cy,” John taunts, watching as Cyrus turns around wide-eyed.

He puts his hands up in the air, “I haven’t even seen her since the morning!” he shouts taking a step backwards bumping into the van parked next to his bike.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John asks.

“This morning. Aella came by to get her things. That slut is crazy,” Cyrus says shaking his head. 

“Watch your mouth,” John warns.

“I am serious, man,” Cyrus insists lowering his hands a few inches. “She pulled a knife out on me. I almost lost an eye. She told me if I ever so much as looked at her again she would carve me into tiny bits. Jigsaw puzzle she called it,” he says paling. 

When John smirks, Cyrus becomes irritable. “You think it’s funny! Her psycho mom sliced up my dad. Like mother like daughter. You should keep that bitch on a leash,” he seethes taken by surprise when John pushes him against the van.

“I said watch your mouth,” he repeats.

“She is fucked up, man. Damaged goods,” Cyrus warns, beads of sweat on his brow.

“I’ll take my chances,” John chuckles before turning back towards his truck.

As John drove back to the house, he realized he never asked Aella whether Cyrus was home when she went to get her things. Pulling up to a stoplight, he rubs the exhaustion from his eyes when his phone rings. Digging it out of his coat pocket, he answers, “Yeah?” in a steely tone.

“Well aren’t you just Mr. Personality?” Bobby jokes.

“Hey Bobby,” John greets waiting for the light to turn green.

“Pastor Jim called me about the whole anti-possession demon tattoo thing,” Bobby begins.

“Yeah?” John prompts.

“Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. I asked around and a few other hunters think it’ll work. One of them even got it already,” Bobby explains.

“Really?” John answers surprised.

“Yeah. Of course it might be a few days before we know for sure,” Bobby shares. 

“That’s great,” John replies, wishing the light would turn green. “Any activity in the devil’s gate?” John asks.

“No, and it ain’t exactly giving me a warm fuzzy feeling. A gate to hell in the middle of national forest sized devil’s trap and nothing. Not a peep,” Bobby sighs.

“Yeah, well be careful what you wish for,” John cautions.

“Listen, why don’t you bring the boys by next weekend?” Bobby offers. 

“I don’t know,” John says uncertainly.

“Your call. Could use the help with the research,” Bobby adds.

John clears his throat, “Yeah, I am sure Sam and Dean will be up for a visit. Plan for four though,” John says.

“Four?” Bobby asks with disbelief.

“You bringing a date, John?” Bobby jokes.

“Not exactly. Listen, I will fill you in when I see you next weekend. Keep in touch,” John says before snapping his phone shut, accelerating when the light finally turns green.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think every John daddy kink fanfic has this scene... so of course I needed it too.

Sam and Dean sit on the bed while Aella unpacks. An endless stream of chatter, they ask whether she can convince John to buy them a video game console and if she’ll teach Dean to make waffles. Reaching into the army duffel bag for the last of her clothes, she frowns when she hears the front door slam. Well acquainted with John’s temper, the boys disappear seconds before he walks into the bedroom. 

“Everything okay?” she asks standing with her arms full of t-shirts.

“You didn’t mention Cyrus was home when you went to grab your stuff,” John says angrily standing in the doorway.

Defensive, she responds, "You didn't ask," before shuffling the clothes in her arms and opening the dresser drawer.

“He said you threatened him,” John accuses.

“He was never going to stop, John,” Aella snaps stuffing the shirts into the dresser.

“So you pulled a fucking knife out on him?” John shouts slamming his fist on the doorframe. His large form encompasses most of the doorway, but she isn’t scared.

Instead she glares, “Cyrus used to have nightmares about what happened to his dad.  He would scream so loud the neighbors would call the cops. After a couple of times, he started to drink himself into oblivion just to fall asleep. So yes, I threatened him, and before you get all high and mighty, what were you doing there?” she counters.

Seconds stretch into minutes as Aella watches the tension in John’s jaw slightly subside and her anger wanes. “Don’t be mad,” she says softly, breaking the silence. Wrapping her arms around him, she tilts her head back to stare up at him. “Tabitha is off your back, Cyrus isn’t a problem anymore, and it’s my birthday,” she urges.

“Get changed. We are going to dinner,” John orders unwrapping her arms from his torso.

“John… I don’t …” Aella begins to protest, immediately regretting reminding him it is her birthday.  

“You aren’t cooking. I will go tell the boys,” he interrupts turning to leave. Aella sighs and shakes her head reaching for a worn Metallica t-shirt and pair of jeans.

Twenty minutes later at a local diner, Aella sits crammed in a booth next to Dean, John and Sam across the table. A throwback to an earlier decade, the entire floor is checkered and a neon jukebox sits in the corner. A long counter with cherry red stools stretches the entire length of the restaurant as customers sit in vinyl booths eating hamburgers and drinking milkshakes. Folding the sticky menu, she listens to Sam and Dean brag about how many fries they are going to eat, trying to one up each other. She stares at John, annoyed with how hot he is in his plaid button down. Trying to ignore him, she instead asks the boys what video games they would buy if they had a console.

“Hey there. Ready to order?” a pretty voice interrupts before Aella turns noticing the middle aged woman waiting to take their order. Her blonde hair is curled; a 1950s dress is pulled tight over her large chest, cinched at the waist with a white apron, a pair of roller skates completing the outfit. As they place their order she smiles at John, batting her eyelashes while she writes on the notepad. Aella silently watches the exchange. 

When she drops off the food, her not so subtle overtures come to an apex when she asks John if there is anything else she can get for him in a very sultry tone. Still irritated from his conversation with Aella, his sour mood only seems to double her efforts. Aella presses her lips together to keep from laughing. Instead she turns towards Dean and steals a fry from his plate. Dipping it in ketchup, he shouts “Hey!” before helping himself to the pickle from her plate.

“It’s so nice to see a dad out with his kids on a Saturday night,” the waitress gushes. Silently chewing, Aella stares at her with bright eyes trying not to laugh. “I bet you were a huge daddy’s girl weren’t you?” she continues.

Aella chokes taking a sip of her strawberry milkshake. “Oh yeah. That’s me,” she laughs. “Huge daddy’s girl,” she says smiling at John mischievously, the irony completely lost on the waitress. “Right Daddy?” she spurs with a gleam in her eyes. 

“I think we are ready for the check,” John tells the waitress while Aella continues to laugh across the table. John will inevitably chew her out about it later, but for now she snatches another fry from Dean’s plate.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter because i am on vacation!

John was pissed. When he confronted Cyrus earlier, he found it amusing how scared he was at the thought Aella cutting on him. Thinking on it more, John realized she had put herself in a dangerous position. While arguing with her in the bedroom, he almost told her not to write checks her ass couldn’t cash, but the words died on his lips because if push came to shove, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t kill Cyrus. Even worse, he wasn’t sure if he would blame her. Saving People. Hunting things. That had always been the family business. John was not so naive he couldn’t recognize sometimes the monsters were human and their intentions had nothing to do with the supernatural, but he had always walked away. Always. As such, the fact that he had sought Cyrus out, intent on threatening him, bothered John. 

When Aella pressed her warm body against him and stared up at him with those sky blue eyes, it did not help his state of mind. Birthday or not, he decided today had been fucking long enough already and the boys never turned down cheeseburgers.

He was crammed in a booth next to Sam, for once grateful for the inane babbling. When a sweet voice asked if they were ready to order, he laid eyes on the most attractive waitress he had ever seen, and he had been to a lot of shitty diners.

Her yellow uniform stretched tight across her porn star tits, blonde hair styled into tight curls and a frilly little apron. Jesus, she even had roller skates on, he thought to himself. It wouldn’t be the first time John fucked a waitress in the back and he stared at her roller skates wondering if she would even take them off.At odds with his brain, his dick was pathetically limp and not even remotely interested. Where he would normally be balls deep in the woman who looked like a wet dream, he was instead still sitting across from Aella watching her talk to Sam and Dean.

Although he didn’t necessarily discourage the blonde’s overtures, the scowl from his face didn’t disappear which only seemed to renew her efforts. His cock did decide to take notice when she started to gush about what a good dad he was. When she turned to Aella and said, “I bet you were a huge daddy’s girl, weren’t you?" John thought he was going to have a stroke. What was a twitch of his dick became a full hard on when she called him Daddy and took a sip of her milkshake. With her pink lips wrapped around the straw, he wanted to throttle her and then sit her on his lap and tease her till she begged for permission to cum. Instead he asked for the check, knowing exactly what he has planned for the rest of the night. 


	28. Chapter 28

“Go to your room,” John orders. Sam and Dean laugh about something as they run up the stairs. With her back towards him, Aella turns the deadbolt, trying to decide whether to apologize or brush off John’s anger. She turns around and is taken by surprise when he steps forward, and her back is pressed against the door. 

John’s large warm hands cradle her neck, his fingertips brushing her jaw as he sucks her lips teasingly. She stills as he turns her head to the side and buries his nose into her hair. “Christ, you smell so fucking good,” he groans before picking her up into his arms. With one arm under butt, the other lost in her hair; he walks to the couch and sits, her legs straddling him.

His hands encircle her waist and he pulls her t-shirt over her head revealing a simple black strapless bra, barely covering her perky round breasts and smooth flawless skin. Her hands reach for his waist and she begins to unbuckle his belt while hungrily tasting his mouth.

When his cell phone rings, he groans shifting her slightly in his lap to dig into his pocket. “John,” he answers watching as Aella deftly unbuckles his belt and begins working on his zipper.

“Where are you?” Pastor Jim asks in a frantic tone.

“Home. Why?” John questions suppressing a groan, Aella is still in his lap unzipping his pants.

“I need you to get over to 503 Douglas Avenue. One of my parishioners called me hysterical. She swears there is a ghost in her house,” Pastor Jim explains breathless. John grabs Aella’s shirt off the sofa cushion and pushes it forcefully into her hands. She gives him a questioning glance before sliding it on quickly. He strokes her cheek reassuringly while staring at her face. “The call dropped before I could tell her to get some damned salt and I am 45 minutes out,” Jim curses.

John rises from the couch and Aella is on her feet. “I will be there in ten,” he says confidently, glancing around the room for his keys.

“John?” Jim cuts out. 

“Yeah?” John asks realizing his pants are unbuckled.

“She swears it’s Aella’s stepfather, Pierce,” Jim’s voice crackles through he phone before it dies.

“Damnit!” John swears, righting his pants after slipping his cell phone in his back pocket.

“Grab your coat,” he tells Aella before shouting Dean’s name. Dean stands at the top of the stairs. “Aella and I are going to help Pastor Jim,” he tells him grabbing a duffel bag.

“Lock the doors. Don’t leave the house. Don’t answer the phone. Call Bobby if you aren’t back in three hours,” Dean recites as John rummages through the contents of the bag. 

Aella stares, watching in silent confusion. “You’re in charge,” he says before hoisting the bag over his shoulder. Reaching for Aella’s hand he pulls her to the truck as the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoes behind them. John tosses the duffel bag into the truck bed. “Parishioner in town swears she is seeing your stepdad. Where is he buried?” John asks.

“He isn’t. We had him cremated,” Aella answers buckling her seatbelt.

“What about all his things?” John asks as he turns the key into the ignition as the truck roars to life. He places his arm over her seat checking behind him as he reverses.

“Pastor Jim had some ladies come over and pack everything up. They took it to goodwill,” Aella responds as they breeze through a stop sign.

“Would you recognize any of his stuff if you saw it?” John asks glancing over at her. Her hair is ruffled and her lips are swollen. He grips the wheel thinking he is going to kill Pastor Jim.

“I think so. He didn’t have a ton of stuff,” she says with a hint of uncertainty.

“Okay,” John begins. “I go in first and we get whoever is in the house behind a line of salt. Spirits can’t pass over it. Then you take a good look around and tell me if there is anything there that is his and we salt and burn it,” he finishes, laying out the plan.

“Okay,” she nods.

“Your stepdad has only been dead for a year. He can’t be that strong yet,” John states.


	29. Chapter 29

Fear strangles Aella as she stares at the small one story house. She can hear crashing, thudding and the faint sound of a child crying. Were she to dwell on it, the uproar would take her back to when her dad, her real dad, and mom used to fight. Instead her stepdad is inside, a spirit too angry and bitter to move on to the next life.

Before she can think twice, John kicks the door in with his shot shotgun raised. He searches for the ghost, Aella following closely behind him.  When they enter the kitchen, she sees a toddler on the floor crying, his semi-conscious mother next to him, and a container of salt inches from her fingertips. Aella scoops the toddler up into her arms and balances him on her hip while she crouches down to check on his mom.

“My husband… his birthday,” she murmurs incoherently before pushing herself into a sitting position. Bringing her hand to her temple, her eyes widen at the sight of blood straining her fingertips. The toddler’s tear stained face draws her attention and when she reaches for him, Aella picks up the salt.

John returns and bends down in front of the woman, staring at her intensely. “I need you to listen to me. I am a friend of Pastor Jim’s.  You and your baby need to stay in this circle,” he orders, his voice like gravel. Before she can respond, the sound of static crackles just over his shoulder. Aella finishes the circle just as her stepfather materializes over John’s shoulder. Her stomach lurches at the sight. Pierce looks exactly the way he did when he died. His skin is mutilated, deep cuts and gashes some severing tendons and others exposing tissue. Suddenly Pierce turns on John and he is thrown across the room, his shoulder slamming into the wall.

“John!” Aella screams watching him grimace. Pure rage explodes from the apparition, “Pretty right? Anna really went to town,” he says his voice dripping disdain. Aella’s heart pounds in her chest as she watches John struggle, pinned against the wall. His eyes are dark and the cords in his neck bulge.

“It wasn’t enough that the cunt was cheating on me. Had to carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey,” he hisses before a side table flies across the room crashing into John’s shoulder. The sound is stomach-turning. Aella steps backwards bumping into the kitchen island. Her hands shake as she begins to remember why she is here. Sweeping her eyes over the counter she notices a cake, half empty container of frosting and small blue gift bag with tissue paper peeking out.

John groans and her eyes dart over his glazed pained expression before she scans the room for anything that might have belonged to Pierce. Grabbing the bag, she digs through it pulling out an autographed baseball. Cursing Cyrus’ stupidity for losing his dad’s precious memento, Aella turns towards the stove. With a click, the burner ignites instantly and she sets the baseball on top dumping salt over it. She glances up at Pierce and when nothing happens she begins to panic wondering if she could have been wrong.

Suddenly John falls to the floor and Pierce bursts into flames, clawing at himself. Aella covers her eyes, the smell of burning leather filling her nose as horrible shrieking punctures the air. Switching the burner off, she sprints to John kneeling next to him. All at once, Pastor Jim bursts through the door and Aella hears the wail of a fire truck in the distance.

Pastor Jim rushes over to the young woman and the toddler. “John, you and Aella should get out of here,” he says over his shoulder. With a groan, John gets to his feet, Aella wedging herself under his good arm.

“We should go to a hospital,” she says, grabbing the duffel trying not to stagger under John’s weight.

“No doctors,” John says through his clenched jaw.

Aella helps him into the truck, adjusting the driver’s seat before she shifts the vehicle in reverse. Gravel spits out from under the tires and she merges onto the two lane road, trying to calm down.

“John,” she begins.

“No doctors,” he cuts her off.

With a sigh, she gives him a worried glance before driving back to the house.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today because you are all so nice with your comments

Shouldering as much of John’s weight as possible, she gives the front door two knocks followed by a short thump. Seconds pass before she hears the deadbolt and Dean opens the door. His eyes are wide as saucers at the sight of John barely upright. They teeter towards the front room before she clumsily lowers John onto the sofa. Dean takes the duffel bag from her and immediately stows it in the closet.

Worried the sight of John disoriented and hurt will scare Sam, she asks, “Where is your brother?” giving Dean an assessing stare.

“He is upstairs,” Dean answers.

Aella takes a deep breath. “Your dad slammed his shoulder pretty hard. I am going to fix him up,” she explains bending down to Dean’s height. She gently turns his chin away from John towards her. “Can you get me the first aid kit and then keep Sam busy? I am going to stay down here and make sure he doesn’t get worse,” she reassures.

“I can do that,” Dean says confidently. 

She gives him a weak smile as he runs to the kitchen and instantaneously returns with the white metallic box.  After he walks upstairs, Aella clears off the coffee table, opening the first aid kit. She unbuttons John’s shirt as he leans his head back, eyes closed. She tries to ignore his tan skin and the dark hair covering his chest, leading down to his jeans.

“Why is the room spinning?” he asks groggily.  

“You have a mild concussion,” she answers easing his left arm out of shirt. He flinches as she maneuvers his right arm out of the flannel. “Do you know your name?” she tests.  

“John Winchester,” he responds. 

“And do you know where do you live, John Winchester?” she asks her fingers skirting over the red and purple bruises covering his shoulder.  

“I like that,” he growls.  

She frowns at him in confusion while continuing to examine his shoulder. “Like what?” she questions.

“My name on your lips,” he answers. 

A smile tugs at her mouth. “Slow down there, cowboy,” she advises. Walking to the kitchen, she grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Stacking the pillows high next to him, she holds the bag over the worst of the bruising and wraps it around his torso with a compression bandage. Securing it with safety pins, she rests his arm on the pillows, elevating it slightly. “I am going to get you some aspirin for your head. You are going to sleep down here so I can watch you,” she informs him as she returns to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

“Like this?” he asks gesturing to the elevated arm, jeans, and sitting position. She hands him the glass and rolls her eyes as he swallows the pills.  

“Christ, you are difficult,” she shoots back; slowly grabbing the pillows she stacked on the couch moments ago. Urging him to lay back, she stuffs a few pillows behind his back, before dragging the coffee table next to the couch and restacking the remaining pillows so his right arm is again elevated.  

“Who does this for you when I am not here?” she teases. 

She unlaces his boots stilling when he says, “No one,” in a somber tone. 

John’s eyes adjust to the light as sunshine begins to stream into the front room. The throbbing pain behind his eyes has subsided and his shoulder is sore and oddly wet. Frowning at the melted bag of peas on the coffee table, he realizes a blanket is pulled halfway up his chest. Aella sits curled in armchair across from him. The sunlight reflects the gold strands in her hair and she looks peaceful. Memories of the night before flip through his mind and his last thought before falling back asleep is how completely fucked up the last 24 hours have been.


	31. Chapter 31

Aella wakes with an uncomfortable crick in her neck. Uncurling herself from the armchair, she shuffles into the kitchen and sees John, Sam and Dean. “Morning!” Sam greets.

“Morning, Sammy,” she answers. Rubbing her tired eyes, she notices John’s hair is still damp and he is wearing fresh clothes. “How do you feel?” she asks walking towards him. She leans against the counter and watches him cook eggs, her mind still fuzzy.

He glances over at her. “Better. Thanks,” he responds giving her side a squeeze.

“Do you want breakfast?” Dean asks, carrying a plate of bacon. Aella smiles, “I am actually running late,” she says messing up his hair affectionately while grabbing a piece of bacon.

Twenty minutes later, Aella is showered and dressed in a black-cropped sweater, stumbling as she tries to slip on her boots. John walks in as she zips her leather jacket. “Plans?” he asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Yeah,” she answers vaguely, pulling her hair from the coat collar.

He places his hands on her hips, “Do I get to know where you are going?” he asks slowly pulling her towards him, positioning her between his legs.

“When I get back,” she reassures, resting her hand on his chest. “You should take it easy. I’ll be back soon,” she says giving him a half smile before grabbing her keys and turning towards the door.

Aella sits in the visitor parking lot outside the psychiatric hospital where her mother worked, until ironically enough, she was admitted and then killed herself. Aella heard Pierce tell John Anna cheated on him. She spent most of the night watching John sleep, turning the accusation over in her head. He could have been lying or manic, but Aella can’t ignore the nagging sensation. As a result, she was sitting outside of the psych ward where her mother’s closest friend works: Meg Masters. Taking a fortifying breath, Aella walks across the parking lot and through the glass doors. Pulling her driver’s license out, she signs in and asks the receptionist where Meg is stationed. Walking down the hall, she finds Meg changing a hospital bed.

“Knock Knock,” Aella says rapping her knuckles on the metallic door. Meg’s black wavey hair contrasts the mint green scrubs. “Aella,” she greets before turning back towards the bed. 

“Hi Meg,” Aella says uncomfortably.

“What are you doing here?” Meg asks pulling the bed sheet tight over the corner of the bed.

“I heard a rumor… and I need to know if it is true,” Aella says removing her hands from her pockets and helping Meg smooth the sheet over the mattress. Despite Meg’s silence, Aella presses forward, “I heard my mom was cheating on Pierce before she killed him,” she says watching Meg carefully.

Meg’s eyes shift to the next bed, “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she answers before grabbing another set of sheets from the cart.

Aella follows her to the next bed, “I think you do,” she counters.

Meg dumps the bedding onto the mattress. Aella grabs the pillowcase and slides the droopy pillow into it. “It wasn’t an affair. Your mom said he was a childhood friend…” Meg begins before pausing.  “He only came to see her a handful of times. There aren’t very many cozy corners to catch up here,” she says sarcastically. “She would spend her break at the shitty café. Sometimes I would cover for her,” Meg admits. 

“Did he come see her the day Pierce died?” Aella asks suspiciously. 

“He did. Aella there are cameras everywhere though… and what your mom did…” she says unable to continue.

“Thanks,” Aella answers curtly.  Aella walks towards the security station in the center of the hospital. Lingering, she waits for the guard to leave, before catching the door with her foot before it closes. Peeking her head in, apology on her lips, she is relieved to find the room empty. Sitting at the console, she scans the different screens finding the camera overlooking the meager café. Sometimes family members would sit and drink coffee from little plastic cups, pretending their relatives weren’t absolute loonies. Finding the camera number, she cross references the stack of tapes and finds the day Pierce died. Popping the tape in, she fast-forwards until her mom appears on screen.

A sharp pain stabs her chest when she sees Anna sitting at a table. She is lovely with dark red hair, her willowy frame tucked into herself, hands clutching the little plastic cup for dear life. Narrowing her eyes, Aella stares at her companion. Dressed in a full suit, trench coat, and black disheveled hair, he stares at her intensely. Aella can’t see his face or hear their conversation, but when the stranger rests his hand over Anna’s, her eyes glow and the screen cuts out turning into fuzzy static.

Hearing the door handle jiggle, Aella’s eyes widen realizing the guard is back. In seconds she is quickly scanning the cabinets, searching for the visitor logs. Finding the right month, she flips to the page while hearing keys clatter on the other side of the door. She rips out the whole page before shoving the book back in its place. Stuffing the paper in her back pocket, she stands just as the guard walks into the room. “What are you doing here?” he asks angrily.

“Would you believe it? I got so turned around,” she says side stepping him quickly. “I better get back to my Nana,” she says dancing out his reach. She forces herself to walk slowly towards the exit, resisting the urge to pull the paper from her pocket and find the name of the last person Anna talked to before she murdered her husband.


	32. Chapter 32

Aella sits in her car staring at the entrance. Any second now she expects hospital guards to run out the door and sprint towards the car. When nothing happens, she turns the key in the ignition and finds herself instinctively driving to the library.

Sitting at a computer terminal, she pulls the paper out from her back pocket and smoothes the creases. Interrupted by the guard, she was unable to rewind the video and check the time stamp. Starting from the top, she types the first name into the search engine.

After hours of looking up names and linking them to obituaries, wills and local property records, she is about to give up when one name returns a dozen news headlines. Search results: Jimmy Novak born in Pontiac, Illinois. Clicking the titles, Aella reads his wife’s passionate plea for help. She explains Jimmy was unwell, convinced he was communicating with angels before abandoning her and his daughter. Desperate to find him and get him medical attention, an image of him begins to load.

Aella stares at the screen in horror as the man from the café appears, except this time with a young blonde daughter and smiling wife. Absolutely certain her mother has lived in Minnesota her whole life; she tries to reconcile Meg’s insistence he was a childhood friend and the strange blue in Anna’s eyes. When her phone buzzes in her pocket, she is pulled from her daze. She scrolls through the messages realizing she has missed half a dozen texts from John.

John: Having fun?

John: Everything okay? 

Missed Call John Winchester (2)

John: Where are you?

John: Answer the damn phone

Missed Call John Winchester (3)

She quickly types a response realizing she left the house eight hours ago.

Aella: Lost track of time. On my way back now.

She considers typing everything is fine and then deletes the text. Everything is not fine, but John might be able to help her make sense of what she has learned. Clicking the printer icon, she picks up the papers clutching the hospital log as she runs to her car. 

Aella parks her car in the driveway behind John’s truck. Flustered, she knocks before remembering she has a key. The door opens and John stands in the doorway. “I am sorry,” she apologizes.

“Is eight hours your definition of soon?” John asks accusatorially.

“I.. I am sorry,” Aella repeats still dazed, her fingers crinkling the papers.

“What’s this?” he asks.

Aella stares at him unsure where to begin. When she doesn’t respond, John states, “Something is wrong,” noticing her lost expression. He guides her to the sofa disappearing in the kitchen only to return moments later with a glass of water. He takes the papers from her, gently pushing the glass into her hands.

“You went to the mental hospital?” he asks, flipping through the hospital log and printouts.

Aella takes a sip of cold water and slowly regains her composure. “Pierce said my mom cheated on him. She would never do that. My dad, my real dad, cheated on her. She was heartbroken. He thought she was having an affair with Jimmy Novak,” Aella says vacantly.

“Jimmy Novak?” John asks.

“He disappeared from Pontiac, Illinois three years ago except I saw him. I saw him on security footage from the hospital the day Pierce died. He was talking to my mom and when he touched her hand, her eyes started glowing and the feed cut out,” Aella says shaking her head in disbelief.

“Fuck. You figured all this out in eight hours?” John asks.

“I don’t understand. What was my mom doing with Jimmy Novak?” she says ignoring his question, staring up at him confused. 

“I think we should go see Bobby. Sooner rather then later,” John states and the thought doesn’t even occur to her to ask who Bobby is and why John thinks he can help.


	33. Chapter 33

Aella can hear John quietly talking on his cell phone from the kitchen. Staring blankly at the armchair, she tries to make sense of all the questions floating in her head, when she realizes she should just ask. Her plan begins to take shape when John returns. “Bobby is with Rufus in Vermont. He won’t be back till Thursday,” he says exasperated, running his hand through his black disheveled hair before tossing the cell phone onto the couch.

“I am going to go Pontiac,” Aella says weakly, staring up at him.

“What?” John asks with a furrowed brow.

“I am going to go to Pontiac,” she repeats, the fog in her mind beginning to clear. “I need to talk to Amelia Novak. I need to know more about Jimmy. It’s a six hour drive,” she asserts. 

“What about school?” John asks. Preoccupied, Aella doesn’t realize it is a weak excuse considering he was ready to drive straight to Sioux Falls.

“I am sure I’m not the first student to skip a few days after their eighteenth birthday. Besides, I will be back Tuesday,” she counters, looking around the room.

“Whoa! You are going to leave now?” he asks with a scowl.

“If I leave now I can be there just before sunrise,” she says collecting the printouts.

“Trust me, Amelia is not going to talk to a stranger who knocks on her door in the middle of the night,” John says crossing his arms over his chest. “We can leave in the morning,” he adds. 

Aella stops searching for her keys, “You aren’t coming. I will be gone overnight and you can’t leave Sam and Dean alone. Besides, she won’t be as forthcoming with you there,” Aella says leveling John a challenging stare. He clenches his jaw in irritation. He knows she is right and it is a short trip, but he still doesn’t want her to go alone. “There is no point in waiting. I can’t sleep. I will get there and just crash in the car for a few hours,” she continues. Knowing he has lost, John sighs. “Go pack an overnight bag. I’ll get the car ready,” he says nodding his head towards the driveway. 

Aella runs upstairs to pack. Stuffing her toothbrush and an extra shirt into her backpack she tries to organize her thoughts and decide how to approach Amelia. After spending half the night checking on John and the other half curled in the armchair, she knows she is running on adrenaline, but she could never sleep knowing answers are just a state over.

Stepping out into the hall, she runs into Sam and Dean. “Aella! You have been gone all day,” Dean says.

Kneeling down she smiles at them. They are in their pajamas, no doubt awake past their bedtime. “What are you two doing awake? No class tomorrow?” she teases. They don’t respond and she smiles knowing they are probably up to no good. “I am going to be gone for a few days,” she says awkwardly unsure how she would even begin to explain.

“You will be back though right?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. I promise,” she assures. New to affection, she gives them each a half hug before walking down the stairs. Scanning the front room, she sees John outside in the driveway. With her bag over her shoulder, she stands next to him in front of the truck.

“I thought you were getting my car ready?” she asks looking around for her sedan.

“You are taking my truck,” he answers.

She opens her mouth to protest. “Your car is a piece of junk. I checked the tires. She has a full tank of gas. The back windows are tinted, but don’t sleep in the car if you don’t have to. There is an envelope with some cash for a motel in the glove compartment,” he cuts her off.

Speechless, Aella closes her mouth. 

“I think the phrase you are looking for is thank you,” he teases playfully bumping her shoulder.

Walking her towards the driver’s seat, he opens the door for her. She tosses her backpack onto the passenger seat before turning back towards him. “Thank you,” she says with a stunned expression. John stares at her face before his eyes drop to her mouth.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles taking a step closer. His lips cover hers as she tilts her head up towards him deepening the kiss. He runs his fingers through her hair, feeling her warm body against him and the truck. Minutes pass while he tastes her sweet hot mouth, before he finally tears himself away. “Make sure you answer your damn phone,” he whispers stroking her face.

“I will,” she assures before detangling herself from him. He stands watching as she pulls out of the driveway and heads for the interstate.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% porn/0% plot

John stood in the driveway watching as Aella drove towards the interstate. He understood the need to find answers and recognized the look in her eyes. It was the same expression he wore when he was closer to finding out what killed Mary. He wanted to go with her. Tabitha had called to let him know her recommendation had been approved, but leaving Sam and Dean was what got him in trouble in the first place. It wasn’t like she was going on a hunt alone. Amelia Novak was probably harmless, but he loaned her his truck anyway. Her car was unreliable and he could always use the Impala in the meantime. He hadn’t planned on kissing her goodbye. When he told her to take his truck, her stunned expression was just too much for him. It was as if nobody had ever worried about her. Her mouth tasted so fucking good too. With a sigh, he shakes his head. Leaving in the morning would have been the smart move, but there was no way she was going to stay. It was better to let her go, find out what she needed to and come back. Soon.

Pink and orange streak across a cerulean blue sky and the sun begins to rise as Aella arrives in Pontiac. When exhaustion hit twenty-file miles ago she powered through, intent on getting to a motel as soon as she arrived. Turning into the first halfway decent motel, she parks before walking to the leasing office. Key in hand, she drags her feet to the room on the circular keychain, quickly locking the door behind her. She scans the room. It is old, the décor still from the seventies, but cheap and clean. She tosses her backpack onto the queen bed and fishes out her cell phone. Sitting on the bed, she kicks her boots off before curling to her side, resting her head on the pillow. After scrolling through her contacts, she listens to the phone ring.

“Hey,” John answers midway through the second ring. “Did you make it?” he asks.

“Yeah. I just checked into a motel. I am starting to think leaving in the middle of the night was not the best decision,” she confesses with a soft laugh.

“I mean, you know I am always going to vote for you in my bed,” John laughs.

Her body flushes at the sound of John’s throaty chuckle. “Sorry it’s so early. I figured you would want to know I made it,” she apologizes sleepily, closing her eyes.

“I am glad you called. Even if you did wake me,” he teases. Aella immediately envisions John’s pants low on his hips, his chest hair leading down to his stomach.

“Mmm stop. I already admitted leaving was stupid,” she groans. Seconds pass in silence before she says, “I miss you. I wish you were here,” without thinking. John sighs. “I wish you were here and I wish we were in the shower,” she continues.

“Mmm. Bad girl,” John jokes.

Her heart beats faster in her chest and her hand reaches down to unbutton her jeans. She slips her fingers into her panties, already wet from the sound of John’s voice. “I want you inside me,” she says softly her breath hitching slightly as she pushes her fingers into her soft folds. “I want you to fill me up and pull my h-h-hair,” she stutters as she plays with her sensitive clit.

“Aella,” John warns.

Rolling onto her back, her fingers continue to stroke her wet slit before roughly playing with her fleshy nub, “I want to wrap my legs around you as you pound me,” she continues tilting her head back before becoming breathless, softly panting. Frantically touching herself, she whispers, “Please,” remembering the sensation of John’s mouth sucking and teasing her. “Please, John” she begs.

“Babygirl. You are killing me,” he growls, his voice strained.

Pushing her hips off the bed, on the edge of release, she gasps before she cums. In an exhausted haze, her breathing becomes deep before she falls asleep.


	35. Chapter 35

Aella wakes in an unfamiliar room, blinking as she scans the outdated furniture, realizing she is fully clothed. Vaguely remembering calling John, she pushes herself off the bed and walks to the shower. Twenty-two minutes later, she steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her chest, noticing sunlight shining through the window. Cursing, she grabs her cell phone and checks the time. It is almost two in the afternoon. Quickly changing into fresh clothes, she towel dries her hair and grabs her backpack. Zippering her coat, she checks to make sure she has the motel key before walking out the door.

Parked two blocks away from the Novak house, she sits in the car. After spending the entire drive deciding what to say to Amelia, she is now unsure. After taking a deep breath, she leaves her backpack taking only her keys, phone and the sign in sheet she stole from the hospital. Jogging over to the house, she admires the white porch of the two-story home. Curtains block her view into the expansive windows. She raps her knuckles gently against the door. When nothing happens, she realizes she probably should have used the doorbell. Just as she searches for it, the door unlocks.

“Yes?” an elderly woman with graying hair, a housecoat and glasses answers.

“Oh,” Aella, says taking a step backwards staring at the woman with a confused expression. 

“I am sorry. I thought Amelia Novak lived here,” she apologizes.

“She does,” the woman clarifies.

“Would it be possible to talk to her?” Aella asks hesitantly after the awkward pause. “My name is Aella. I … I need to talk to her about Jimmy,” Aella explains.

The woman glares at her, “She is out of town, with her mother-in-law,” she states. “She will be back tomorrow,” she shares begrudgingly.

“I am staying at the motel in town. Could I leave my number?” Aella questions. 

Without a word, the woman turns and Aella stands on the porch unsure whether to follow. She returns with a notepad and pen and pushes them into Aella’s hands. Searching for a hard surface, she puts the pad against a large white column and jots down her name and number.

“You aren’t a reporter are you?” the woman asks.

“What? No,” Aella frowns over her shoulder. Skeptical the woman won’t just toss her number in the trash, she pushes, “I saw him,” giving the woman a determined look. The woman looks slightly taken back. “Please have her call me,” Aella insists before handing her the notepad and walking down the steps fighting the disappointment in her chest.

Just as Aella reaches the truck, her phone pings.

John: I have to admit I thought I was past phone sex. Hope things are going well.

Aella groans leaning back in the driver’s seat. The hot spray of the shower sparked thoughts she wasn’t sure were memory or fantasy. With a smile on her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief typing a response.

Aella: Not as well as I would like… Amelia is out of town and won’t be back till tomorrow. 

Chewing her lower lip she sends a second message. 

Aella: I have to admit I thought I imagined it

Her phone pings immediately two times.

John: It doesn’t sound like you are going to be back Tuesday. Keep me posted.

John: You crashed pretty hard after.

Aella stares out at the quiet suburban neighborhood trying to decide what to do while she waits for Amelia’s call.

Grabbing her phone, she punches the keys.

Aella: It is looking more like Wednesday

She smiles when she reads John response

John: Be safe. Come home soon

Sliding her phone into the console, she turns the key in the ignition deciding to see what she can find at city hall.


	36. Chapter 36

Aella sits at a hard wooden table punching the keys of a dusty outdated computer. Sorting through public records, she has pieced together Jimmy Novak’s biography, but is still missing the details of his psychotic episode. After his wife’s public appeal for help, the search for Jimmy fell largely on his church before it disintegrated altogether. With nothing to do but wait, Aella stops by a local diner for dinner.

Sitting in a large booth, she pulls Pastor Jim’s book from her bag. She compares the anti-possession symbol and the angel warding. Sketching a combination of the two on a notepad, she muses whether they could be used congruently.  Engrossed in her drawings, she doesn’t realize the waitress has been trying to ask her if she needs anything else. Scanning the restaurant, she is surprised to see night has fallen and the diner is almost empty. “I am all set,” she says apologetically, closing the book before paying. Heading back to the motel, she sits on the bed reading. When her phone rings, she dives for it.

Hitting accept, she answers, “Hello?” her heart beating frantically in her chest.

“Is this Aella?” a meek voice asks.

“It is,” she confirms.

“This is Amelia Novak. My mom said you came to our house. She said you had information about Jimmy?” she asks, the hope in her voice unmistakable.

Aella recoils. She was purposefully vague, but she needed to make sure Amelia called her. “Can we meet?” Aella asks.

Seconds pass in silence before Amelia responds, “I won’t be back in town until tomorrow night,” she says curtly.

“I can come by your house,” Aella begins.

“No,” Amelia cuts her off. “There is a coffee shop off 5thAvenue,” she offers.

“What time?” Aella questions.

“I am free at eight,” Amelia states.

“Okay. I will see you at eight,” Aella agrees before disconnecting. Resigning herself to an extra night in Pontiac, she calls John.

The phone rings three times and then a fourth. She calls back, surprised when Sam answers. “Hello?” he greets. 

“Sam!” Aella says with a smile on her lips. “Is everything okay? Why are you answering John’s phone?” she immediately questions. 

“He is in the kitchen with Pastor Jim,” Sam states.

“Oh. Where is Dean?” she asks.

 “He is right here. Want to talk to him?” Sam responds. Before she can answer, she hears Dean’s voice. 

“Aella?” he asks.

“Hey Dean. Sammy said John is with Pastor Jim. How are you? How was school?” she inquires. It has been less than a day, but she didn’t expect Amelia to be out of town and there isn’t much to do but wait.

“School was stupid. I am glad next week is spring break,” he grumbles. “Dad said we are going to go see Bobby,” he continues.

“What do you like best about Bobby?” Aella asks, discreetly trying to determine what Bobby is like.

“He fixes up cars and makes chili!” Dean says enthusiastically. Dean continues, but a voice in the background and the muffled sound of the phone changing hands, silences Dean’s response.  

“Aella? What’s wrong?” John says his voice hard.

“Nothing,” she laughs. “I asked the same thing when Sam picked up your phone. He said you were with Pastor Jim?” she begins.

“Yeah. He just left,” John responds in a distracted tone.

 “Is now a bad time?” Aella asks leaning back against the pillow.

“No. Dean was just complaining he wasn’t finished talking to you,” John explains.

“Well, you did interrupt our conversation,” she teases.

“He’ll live,” John counters.

 “I am meeting with Amelia tomorrow night,” Aella shares remembering her reason for calling.

“So another night in Pontiac?” John questions.

“Unfortunately. It has been very uneventful,” she admits. “I have a few things to keep me busy tomorrow though,” she says peculiarly, glancing at the sketch on her notepad.  


	37. Chapter 37

It is almost noon when Aella wakes. After telling the motel clerk she will be staying one more night, she makes the short walk downtown in desperate need of coffee. Caffeine in hand, she returns to the room and immediately notices the bathroom door is slightly askew. She furrows her brow in confusion; almost certain she closed it before leaving. Rifling through her belongings, she searches for her notepad. Checking under the bed, between the pages of Pastor Jim’s book, and beneath a pile of clothes, she determines it is lost. She grabs her backpack, intent on asking the front desk about it later, after visiting the seedy part of town she spotted earlier.

The bell chimes as Aella walks into the studio. A man dressed in all black covered in tattoos looks up from a ledger. “Can I help you?” he asks.

“Yeah, I want to get a tattoo,” Aella explains.

“Okay,” he responds uncertainly.  

“I am eighteen. And I have cash,” she adds.

“Alright. I’m Josh. What did you have in mind?” he asks adjusting his glasses, genuinely interested.

Thirty-five minutes later, Aella walks out of the tattoo parlor, her ribcage wrapped in plastic to prevent droplets of blood from staining her shirt. She rushes passed a pawnshop, when she stops, backtracking to stare at the display. Two Gameboys, one blue and one red sit on a stack of games.

When she checked the envelope John left in the glove compartment, it had enough money for her to stay at a five star hotel a whole week. She feels a slight tinge of guilt, but not enough to keep her from pushing the door to the store open.

The hours drag until it is time for Aella to meet Amelia. She is too nervous to eat and her stomach does flip-flops as she walks into the coffee shop, immediately recognizing the woman from the photograph. Sitting in an oversized armchair with a mug in front of her, she stands when Aella approaches her.

“Aella?” she asks uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Aella confirms.

In seconds, a waiter is at the table asking Aella her order. Dismissing him quickly, she orders a coffee black, eager for him to leave. When he drops it off seconds later, Aella shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

“My mother said you came to the house. She said you told her you had seen Jimmy?” she asks. Despite the plush chair, she sits up straight, hands folded neatly over one another.

“My mom was in a psychiatric hospital. Jimmy Novak came to visit her about a year ago,” Aella states.

“How did you know it was him?” Amelia immediately questions.

Aella unfolds the sign in sheet from the hospital, smoothing the edges before handing it to Amelia.

“They make you sign in at the hospital. They are pretty diligent about checking ID too… I mean I guess it is possible…” Aella begins.

“No,” Amelia interrupts. “That’s his handwriting,” she says curtly handing it back to Aella.

Tucking it back into her pocket, Aella takes a sip of the bitter coffee. “My mom was born in Blue Earth Minnesota. She never left,” Aella says delicately. 

Amelia stares at Aella confused. “Is there any reason Jimmy would come visit my mom?” Aella continues. “Did he ever go to Minnesota for work? Maybe vacation?” she suggests.

“No,” Amelia says shaking her head. “We have never been to Minnesota,” she insists.

“Maybe before he met you?” Aella asks gently.

“I guess it is possible. We were high school sweethearts though. We met at youth group when we were thirteen,” she says with a sad smile.

Aella clears her throat, “My mom also experienced a psychotic break,” she shares. “I never got the chance to ask her what she thought was happening, but Jimmy, you said he insisted he was communicating with angels?” Aella asks.

“He was very devout. I came home one night and he … he just plunged his hand in boiling water, like it was nothing,” she says staring vacantly. “He was still him though. He thought it was a miracle. I remember him smiling and I was nodding like it was perfectly normal,” she says her voice breaking.

“Was he not him later on?” Aella prompts.

Quietly crying Amelia shakes her head. “Jimmy was the sweetest guy. He had a huge heart. After his … episode … he turned … almost militant,” she says with a confused expression staring at Aella, her brow furrowed in disbelief.

“Everything he did. Everything he said. It was like he was a soldier. He wasn’t Jimmy anymore. He said his name was Castiel and he was an angel of the Lord,” Amelia says her voice breaking.

Aella holds her breath. Castiel. Turning the name over in her head, her heart beats loudly in her chest while she tries to stay calm.

“That is an odd name for an angel,” Aella says evenly.

“He was sick! He is sick and he needs help,” Amelia cries. “I was hoping you had seen him recently. A year … he could be anywhere by now,” Amelia sobs.

“I am sorry,” Aella says softly, "I am so sorry," she repeats surprised when she realizes she actually means it.

“You will call me right? If you see him again?” Amelia asks desperately.

Pressing her lips together, Aella resists the urge to tell Amelia Jimmy Novak is long gone. “I will call you if I find your husband,” Aella promises standing as she drops two dollars onto the table, glancing sadly at Amelia one more time before rushing out of the café.


	38. Chapter 38

Aella sits on the motel bed vacantly staring across the room. Amelia’s hopelessness so closely mirrored her own after Anna killed herself she had to leave. With a glazed expression, she glances over her clothes and personal belongings deciding to pack in the morning. The sooner she goes to bed the sooner she will be back.

Aella checks out of the motel and drives for two hours before stopping for gas. Pulling away from the rest stop, she notices a black sedan behind her. One hour later, she glances in the rear view mirror, the sedan still trailing the truck. Gripping the wheel, she considers her lost notebook, the open bathroom door, and now this. Discreetly checking her rearview mirror again, she decides to call John. She punches the speaker button and his deep voice fills the cabin. “Aella,” he greets.

“I think there is someone following me,” Aella says her calm voice at odds with her sweaty palms.

“What? How far out are you?” John demands.

“I am coming up on Iowa City,” she answers.

“Keep driving. Stay on 80 and take 29N to Sioux Falls. I will text you Bobby’s address,” he orders.

“I thought he wasn’t going to be home till Thursday?” Aella asks, gripping the steering wheel tensely.

“He’ll be there,” John assures.

Seconds pass before she says, “I was really looking forward to coming home,” clenching her jaw.

“Me too,” John states as they wordlessly agree driving back to Blue Earth could lead whoever is following her back to Sam and Dean. “Get to Bobby’s. I will meet you there as soon as I can,” John promises.

Aella stares at the gas gauge hoping can make it to Sioux Falls without stopping. The sedan continues to follow at a reasonable distance, its lingering presence leaving her on edge.

Staring at the driveway, Aella pounds on the door praying John was able to get in touch with Bobby. The car pulled off after she exited the highway, but not seeing it is almost as bad having it tiptoe behind her. She bangs on the door again before a grizzled man in a trucker hat and vest answers.  “Aella?” he asks with a confused expression.

Not waiting, she ducks under his arm, “Yeah,” she confirms relived she is no longer out in the open. He closes the door behind her while she scans the peeling wallpaper, Asian art and stacks of books on the staircase. He bolts half a dozen locks, his expression still puzzled. He leads her to a tiny kitchen: frying pan hanging over the stove, white cabinets and old stove. A middle aged black man sits at the kitchen table with his back towards her, a beer inches from his hand. Bobby leans against the kitchen sink crossing his arms over his chest.

“You must be Bobby,” Aella says with a serious expression.

“Yeah,” Bobby answers still lost.

The stranger turns staring at Aella’s wide sapphire eyes, the soft waves of her caramel colored hair, Metallica shirt tucked into her ripped jeans and backpack. She wears a serious expression, but with her rosy cheeks, full lips, and youthful glow he wonders if she is even old enough to drive.

“Jesus Christ, Bobby, where did John find her? The playground?” he rebukes.

“That’s Rufus,” Bobby introduces with a scowl.

Rufus stands, “Yeah and that’s Bobby, the man who almost killed me driving like a bat out of hell from Vermont to get back here,” he gripes. “Look Bobby, I helped you bury that body, but I am too old for this….” he pauses glancing at Aella, “…whenever you figure out what the hell is going on give me a call,” he says taking a last swig of beer before heading for the door.

An awkward silence settles over the kitchen as Bobby and Aella stare at one another. Bobby clears his throat, “John was pretty adamant Rufus and I make it back,” he explains.

“What else did he say?” Aella asks dropping her bag to the floor before sitting in Rufus’ vacated seat, deciding not to wait for an invitation.

“Not much,” Bobby says shaking his head. 

“Listen this is your house. You don’t know me,” Aella begins attempting to dispel the awkwardness. 

“My mom tortured my step-dad. She cut him up pretty bad. She said angels made her do it and then killed herself. Things weren’t great after she died and I broke into Pastor Jim’s church. I was angry. I was issued court ordered community service to be completed at Pastor Jim’s discretion. That’s how I met John. I guess he thought maybe she wasn’t lying or just felt bad,” Aella says evenly.

Bobby uncrosses his arms and opens the refrigerator reaching for another beer. He twists off the cap and brings it to his lips. “So you are telling me you find out that all the creepy crawly things that only exist in nightmares are real and you still fall in with John?” he asks disappointedly, before taking a sip.

“It’s not that simple,” Aella responds defensively.

“You could go to college. Have a family. You are choosing this life,” he insists.

“I find out my mom may not have been riding shotgun when she killed my step-dad and you act like I have a choice? I don’t believe I do,” she claims, her hard voice betraying the anger inside of her.

She glares at Bobby before he takes another sip. Thinking of Sam and Dean she begins, “You are John’s friend. You are important to the boys. I appreciate what you did. I don’t need a parent. What I need is your help,” she states her voice softer than it was moments ago.

With a sigh, Bobby gestures towards the entryway. “Come on. I have a spare room. You can get settled,” leading her out of the kitchen. Satisfied with the temporary truce, she follows Bobby upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Rufus is hard. Writing a Bobby who doesn't approve but kind of understands is hard.


	39. Chapter 39

Aella looks around the small bedroom. A faded pine-scented blanket is folded at the foot of the queen size bed. She opens the door to a small closet and finds a few hangers, smiling when she sees two child-size winter coats. A side table and dresser furnish the room and the bathroom is just down the hall. Dumping her belongings onto the bed, she realizes she only packed clothes for two days and needs to do laundry. Setting her toiletries bag to the side, she flips through Pastor Jim’s book before placing it on the nightstand. Stuffing the dirty clothes back into the backpack, she searches for Bobby.

She finds him sitting behind a large desk and knocks lightly before walking into the study. “I was hoping I could borrow your—” she begins before falling short. There are books everywhere. She turns in a circle. There are books stacked in corners, neatly organized on shelves and spread out over the bench of a reading nook. “This is amazing,” she says in awe. 

“Most people think I am a paranoid bastard,” Bobby chuckles. “Did you need something?” he asks. 

“Washer?” she asks holding up the open backpack.

“Come on. I bet you’re hungry too,” he says, standing from the wooden swivel chair.

Aella sits at Bobby’s kitchen table while he warms up a bowl of chili. “Dean told me about your chili,” she says hoping to find an innocuous topic. Straightaway, Bobby begins regaling her with stories about the boys. Hours pass and they sit talking at the kitchen table when the doorbell rings.

“Bobby!” John’s voice carries from the porch.

Aella trails after Bobby, watching as he unlocks the half a dozen deadbolts. He flings the door open and suddenly it is a blur of activity as Sam and Dean run into the house. Sam wraps his arms around Aella’s waist while Bobby puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder welcoming them. A duffel bag in each hand, John continues to stand in the doorway staring at Aella as she smiles down at Sam detaching his arms from her.

“Your dad’s cooking that bad?” she teases Dean.

“Boys take your bags to your room,” John says in a brusque tone. In a black t-shirt layered under his black leather jacket, his hair is mussed and his eyes are looming. Aella frowns at him wondering what is wrong. Sam and Dean grab their bags and run up the stairs. John closes the distance and cradles her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. “I am okay,” she states, squeezing his wrist three times reminding him Bobby is there. “I am okay,” she repeats softly. John turns to Bobby and Aella smiles when John pulls him into a hug. “We need to talk,” Aella says half-heartedly just as Sam and Dean storm down the stairs.

After asking Sam and Dean if they are hungry, Bobby tells John he will meet them in the study. John grabs Aella hands and leads her into the study before closing the sliding doors behind them. Turning towards her, he sits her on Bobby’s desk before covering his mouth with hers. Her head spins as she realizes he is solid all over: muscled arms wrapped around her, the hard plane of his chest against hers, and his stiff erection pressing against her jeans. With his hands squeezing her hips, her fingers dig into his jacket. Instantly wet, she matches his fervor eliminating the space between them, drawing him closer with her long legs.  His kiss is demanding and when she bites his lower lip, he rubs his mouth along her neck kissing down to her collarbone.

“John,” she says breathlessly, his hands frantically finding their way under her t-shirt. She inhales sharply when his hands run over her ribcage. He frowns at her running his fingers run over the raised skin of her tattoo. With swollen lips she explains, “I went ahead and got it,” lifting her shirt. Inked in her skin is the anti-possession symbol combined with the angel warding. John steps back gently pulling her off the desk so she can stand. With his hand on her stomach, the other resting on her lower back, he inspects it. “Not a bad job,” Bobby says from over his shoulder.

“Aella’s right. We have some catching up to do,” he tells them.


	40. Chapter 40

Bobby walks around the desk and opens a drawer pulling out a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. Pouring a generous amount into each, he hands one to John and one to Aella. “Get cozy,” he advises. Aella sits on the edge of the desk cradling the tumbler between her hands.

“I did some digging while you were gone,” John begins. Aella glances up realizing he is talking to her. John sets his whiskey down on the desk before stroking his beard. Bobby leans back in his chair, recognizing the anxious habit. “I got a hold of your mother’s medical records. She never claimed angels told her to kill Pierce. Her intake said she believed she was an angel who served in the same platoon as Jimmy Novak. He warned her of an impending war between heaven and hell and tried to recruit her. The evaluation said he very vividly showed her what would happen if hell won. That was the day she killed Pierce. She insisted the symbols she carved into Pierce were for his own protection. They diagnosed her with schizophrenia and a bipolar disorder,” John shares grimly. He glances at Aella watching her stare vacantly into the glass. “ _Angels Made Me Do It_ was a tagline the prosecution fed the media to discredit her,” John says softly. 

“Castiel,” Aella whispers.

John stares at her intensely, “What did you say?” John asks.

“Castiel,” Aella repeats. 

“Amelia said after Jimmy’s breakdown he told her his name was Castiel. That he became militant and said he was an angel of the Lord,” she explains, clearing her throat before looking up at John’s shocked face.

“That was the name in your mom’s file,” John says in agreement.

“How did you get those records?” Aella asks skeptically.

“Meg Masters. She doesn’t believe any of it, but after seeing you, she felt guilty enough to give me a copy,” John clarifies. The sick churn of shame eats at Aella and she starts to shake thinking it is worse than she imagined. The symbol etched over her ribcage makes her nauseous and she begins to wonder if it is worth the protection it offers. John notices her dazed expression and the tremor in her hands. He stands in front of her guiding the glass to her lips with a steady hand. “Small sips,” he urges in a soft voice.

Aella brings the glass to her lips tipping back a small taste. The whiskey burns the back of her throat, relieving her of the bilious feeling in her stomach. From over her shoulder she hears the wooden chair creak as Bobby stands.

“This is not good,” he states.

“That Devil’s Gate is a portal to hell and if we know that you bet damn sure someone else does too,” he clarifies.

“Devil’s Gate?” Aella asks glancing at Bobby over her shoulder. Her leg is propped up on his desk, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her shoes off the desk. Not with what John just laid on her.

“It’s as bad as it sounds. A crypt in the center of a 100-mile devil’s trap. A door to Hell,” he reiterates.

Aella pushes herself off the desk staring at Bobby in shock. “You said nothing weird’s been going on as far as you can tell,” John prompts.

“Not a peep,” Bobby confirms.

“Then they haven’t opened the door. We just need to find a way to lock it,” she says hopefully.

“I hope you like books, Princess,” Bobby says shaking his head walking out of the study.

John takes the glass from Aella’s hand and sets it on Bobby’s desk. He rests his hands on her hips. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, pulling her gently to his chest. Her earlier elation from being reunited with John and the boys has dissipated as she relives the horror of what her mom has done. For a year, she pushed down the emotions, distancing herself from that night. Knowing there is a tough road ahead; she closes her eyes allowing herself a few minutes to grieve before they get to work.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10000000% Fluff

Aella wipes her eyes slowly composing herself. “Ready?” John asks. She nods wordlessly and they walk back to the kitchen finding Bobby chatting with Sam and Dean. Bobby asks about school and while Sam insists it is the best one so far, Dean rolls his eyes adding he is glad they are on spring break. Suddenly remembering the Gameboys, Aella interrupts, “I have something for you!” both of them turning towards her. “Wait here,” she instructs before running to the laundry room. Searching through her bag, she pulls out two consoles and a handful of cartridges. 

She walks back to the kitchen, handing one to each of them, spreading the games out on the table. They jump up, thanking her while digging through the games. Sam gushes as Dean grabs his brother’s inspecting both of them before handing it back to Sam. A sad smile pulls at Aella’s lips as she watches their excitement. “I expect you all will want to turn in soon,” Bobby says drying a bowl with a dishtowel. “It’s been a long day,” he says giving Aella a purposeful glance. With their eyes glued to the screen, Sam and Dean head upstairs after a muffled goodnight.

“Thank you, Bobby,” Aella says gratefully.

Following John upstairs, she sits on the edge of the bed while he unpacks. “I am surprised Bobby is okay with us sleeping in the room,” she confesses, watching John sort through his bag.

“I think he has bigger things to worry about,” John answers absently. “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I am sure you’re tired. I’ll go make sure Sam and Dean haven’t gone cross-eyed,” he insists. Aella nods as John walks out of the room closing it gently behind him. Drained, she scans the room realizing her clothes are downstairs sitting in the dryer. Grabbing one of John’s t-shirts and her toothbrush, she heads for the bathroom. Peeling back the covers, she slips between the clean sheets. The blanket is heavy and the room is pleasantly dark. She is about to go look for John when the door creaks. “Sorry,” he apologizes slipping out of his jeans, sliding his shirt over his head. “Practically had to pry it from Dean’s hands,” he adds.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks after pulling the covers back.

“My clothes are in the dryer,” Aella explains.

“It looks better on you,” John says with a tired groan, the bed shifting under his weight.

Aella rolls to her side staring at his profile, a mix of uncertainty and other emotions still swirling inside of her. “We’ll figure it out,” he answers. He props himself up on his elbow, his hand caressing her face. He brings her mouth to his, kissing her softly. She presses herself against him and his shirt rides up over stomach. “God damn, I missed you,” he growls pressing her into the mattress, covering her with his body. She kisses him fiercely, her arms wrapped around his neck. He rests his forehead against hers, and when her eyes begin to droop, he rolls onto his back. She rests her head on his chest. Watching her fall asleep, he strokes her hair grateful to just be with her.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 99.5% Smut/0.5% Fluff

Covered in cold sweat, Aella wakes from her nightmare. Although not recently, it is one she has had before. At some point during the night, she rolled away from John and the covers are twisted around her torso. The collar of her shirt is uncomfortably clammy and she glances at John’s sleeping form before slipping out of the bed and tip toeing to the shower. 

Freshly showered with her hair still wet and one of John’s t-shirts, she opens the bedroom door. She finds John propped up on his elbow staring at the empty space next to him. “I was just about to come look for you,” he says huskily. The blanket is bunched around his hips exposing his tan chest. The mattress dips as she slips into bed and meets his mouth with a tentative kiss. 

He explores her mouth bringing a hand to her damp hair as she eases herself into his lap. He leans back against the headboard, squeezing her round ass while she rubs against him. Trailing her hand down his chest, she slips his shirt over her head before dragging her body down against his. 

With the blankets now on the floor, she sees his cock straining against his boxers. Pulling his underwear off, she tosses it to the floor and his dick springs free. “Aella,” John cautions as he stares at her kneeling on the bed, perky tits pink from her shower. Immediately noticing how big he is, she swirls her tongue around the head of his dick tasting his precum. He is delicious salty. She rubs her thumb over the head of his dick collecting the precum in her palm before stroking his shaft and leaving him slick.

Her eyes glance up at him and he groans and shifts his hips. Pushing her hair back from her face, she stares at him before taking him in her mouth and slowly twirling and flicking him with her tongue. She wraps her lips firmly around him and sucks him with long stokes, John gently holds the hair back from her face. With her hand wrapped around the base of his cock she slides him deeper in her mouth. He is rock hard when she pulls him out of her mouth and places him between her soft tits. Kissing the length of his dick, she slides him back into her mouth making soft humming noises as she bobs. John tenses underneath her when she slides him deep into her throat. The soft moans emanating from her send him over the edge and his grip tightens in her hair.

“Babygirl,” the word rips from his throat in warning but she continues to suck him deep squeezing his thigh in anticipation. When he explodes in the back of her throat she swallows. Shuddering underneath her, she rubs the tip of his cock over her lips letting his cum drip on her mouth before sucking her lower lip. 

John pulls her up towards his chest kissing her lips as she moans in his arms. Gently turning her so her back is against his warm chest, he sits her in his lap. He collects her hair draping it over her shoulder before kissing the side of her neck. “John,” she whimpers as he hooks his ankles around hers spreading her legs. He cups her breast tugging at her nipple before sliding his hand into her underwear. She has soaked through her panties and he lifts her hips sliding them off her legs.

She pushes against his chest writhing in his lap when he dips a finger into her soft folds scooping some of her slick and holding it to her lips. It is almost enough to get him hard again when she suckles his fingers tasting herself. A mess in his arms, he runs his mouth along her neck and with broad sweeping motions he rubs her clit in a circle. Listening to her short quick gasps he strokes his calloused fingertips against her clit rubbing back and forth quickly. She climaxes, soaking his fingers.

Her breathing becomes deep and he wraps his arms snugly around her. Minutes pass before he grabs his boxers tenderly wiping both of them clean. She is half asleep when he smoothly shifts her to her side of the bed and pulls the cover over them.

John knew how thin the walls were at Bobby’s. He knew the boys were just down the hall. He knew Bobby didn’t agree with him and Aella. What he didn’t know was how amazing she would feel. Yes, she was sexy, but John had fucked attractive women. It was the odd combination of knowing exactly what he was getting with her. Knowing she would stay up with Dean when he was sick. Knowing she would comfort Sam when she was hurt. Knowing she was smart and rational, quick thinking and tough, vulnerable but more often than not strong. Whether it was the incident with her mom or having to take care of herself long before that, John wasn’t sure. What he did know was that this was rapidly approaching more than just sex which meant it probably wasn't going to end well, and yet he can't bring himself to stop. 


	43. Chapter 43

Bobby stands at the stove, spatula in hand, watching Sam and Dean scarf down bacon and eggs. “Jesus, John, you sure you’re feeding these boys?” he grumbles. John leans against the refrigerator, looking over at Sam and Dean before shaking his head in disbelief. With his arms crossed over his chest, coffee in hand, he explains, “I have a feeling it has more to do with getting back to their video games,” walking over to the coffee pot. When Aella walks into the kitchen, John looks up from his mug. She is wearing black jeans with a faded gray t-shirt, sleeves cut off long ago. Her skin is rosy from the shower and images of his hard cock between her tits flood his mind before he realizes he is overfilling his cup. 

“Morning,” she greets.

“Morning. Better fix yourself a plate. Might not be anything left soon,” Bobby warns motioning over his shoulder to the kitchen table. She walks over to the stove, grabs a plate and sits next to Sam. She serves herself and grabs a fork as John sets a fresh mug of coffee in front of her. When Dean grabs a piece of bacon from Sam’s plate and the boys start to bicker, she discreetly thanks him for bringing her laundry upstairs. 

Taking a piece of bacon from her plate, she puts it on Sam’s plate after asking what games they played and which one is their favorite. When Aella finishes her breakfast, she asks, “Boys, can you pick up the kitchen? I need to talk to Bobby and your dad,” giving them a hopeful smile.

“Sure,” Dean agrees.

“Thanks,” she says, squeezing his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” John demands as soon as Bobby closes the door to the study behind them.

Leaning against Bobby’s desk, she crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the floor. “I wanted my mom to be possessed,” she confesses before pausing. “I didn’t want to accept that she just snapped. I wanted something, someone to be responsible. When I learned about Castiel I wanted to blame him and in a way he is responsible, but that won’t bring my mom back,” she says with a stoic expression looking up at John and then at Bobby. Thinking of Pierce, she adds, “At least not in any condition I would want her back in,” glancing up at the ceiling as if talking to herself. “Whatever Castiel showed her was so horrible she lost her mind,” Aella asserts. “Bobby, how long have you been researching the Devil’s Gate?” she asks.

“For a couple of months now,” he says watching her with a suspicious expression.

“I think we should summon Castiel,” she proposes.

“Summon? As in summon an angel?” Bobby questions in a voice laced with skepticism.

“He met with my mom almost a year ago. If he tried to recruit her, he must have some idea of how much time we have and if he showed her what would happen, he knows what horrible things could come through that door,” she counters.

“How would we even do that? Summon an angel?” Bobby continues with an incredulous tone.  

“I actually know how,” Aella says hesitantly. 

“That damn book,” John sighs.

“There are different sigils in Pastor Jim’s book. Some of them can be used for summoning,” Aella continues ignoring John’s comment.

“Is it safe?” Bobby asks. 

“I don’t know,” Aella says staring at John. “I mean the spell is harmless. What I don’t know is whether Castiel is dangerous,” Aella finishes giving him a questioning look.

“Sam and Dean,” he responds.

“I mean he is an angel right? From heaven? He is our best chance, but it is your call,” she insists watching John with a careful expression.

“That barn down the road still abandoned?” John asks Bobby.

“Yeah,” Bobby answers.

“Let’s do it,” John agrees.

“Okay,” Aella says. “I will go figure out what we need,” she says walking towards the door. Before she leaves, she grabs John’s arm. “It is important to me that you know I would never … if I thought it would put Sam and Dean in danger,” she stumbles over her words.

“I know,” John assures. “Go figure out what we need and Bobby and I will make sure we get it,” he instructs with a sigh.


	44. Chapter 44

“Castiel,” she whispers. Not a question, but a demand. An order to appear. Inside the vaulted ceiling of the abandoned barn, blue energy crackles. Aella glances at John apprehensively, the hair on the back of her neck rising with the static electricity. “Aella” a grating voice answers. 

Pulling her gaze from John, she stares at the person standing in front of her. She had seen pictures of Jimmy Novak online.  She had even seen video of him from the security footage. With his neatly combed hair and friendly smile, he seemed like a good man. The figure standing in front of her was not a man though and she wasn’t sure she would call him good. Dressed in a tan trench coat and wrinkled suit, he wears an expression of disdain.  

Currents of energy swirl, tugging at Aella’s hair as if she were standing in the middle of a storm. Smoke from the bowl of burning herbs wafts up into the air, only to be quickly snuffed by the gusts. John and Bobby flank her and their agitation is palpable. “How do you know my name?” she asks with angry distrust. Eyeing the symbols etched onto the floor, he responds “Your mother spoke of you,” scanning the quadrants and candles laid out as part of the ritual.  

“She went insane. Whatever you did. She killed herself,” Aella accuses.

“That is unfortunate,” Castiel replies. “I had hoped she would rejoin her platoon and lead us in the upcoming war,” he adds. She is rendered speechless, astounded by his selfishness.

“Lead you where?” John questions.

“Anna wasn’t just a member of our regiment. She was our commander,” Castiel retorts glaring contemptuously at John.

Finding her voice, Aella admonishes, “You talk about this war as if there is no chance of preventing it,” as she gripes the sides of the table.

“There isn’t,” Castiel challenges, eyes snapping to Aella. “ _And it is written that the gateway will be opened when virtue is stolen from the innocent, left as broken and ruined as the door between Hell and Earth_ …” Castiel prophesies.

“Well ain’t that a bitch,” Bobby mutters.  

“What happens then? What comes through that door?” John questions.

“Everything,” Castiel responds arrogantly.

“Care to be a bit more specific?” Bobby fires back.

“Everything evil,” Castiel adds sarcastically. “I am part of a small group of angels who don’t want an all-out battle. A war between Heaven and Hell would decimate the human race,” he explains.  

“How much time do we have?” Aella asks trying to keep her voice from breaking. 

“I don’t know,” he answers.

“This was a mistake. I called on you because I thought you would be helpful. I thought you might have more than vague doomsday predictions. You should be ashamed of yourself. You want to prevent the extermination of mankind yet have nothing to offer,” she says hands shaking in anger. The barn falls silent as Castiel stares at her with his head tilted as if evaluating her. “Anna may have fallen and lost her grace, but you are her spitting image. You would have commanded legions in God’s name,” he comments oddly.

“Then tell me something useful,” she urges

“When the gate opens, monsters who have not inhabited earth since its creation will pass through. Close it and I can reason with my brothers and sisters, convince them to return to Heaven peacefully. Left open, I will have no choice but fight on the side of angels. 

“How do we close it?” she asks sternly.

“As with most doors there is a key,” Castiel says condescendingly.

“Alright, well where is the key?” Bobby prompts. 

“You can’t get it,” Castiel replies. 

“But you could,” Bobby suggests.

“You don’t understand. I can’t get it without tipping off my brother and sisters and it is physically impossible for you to get it,” Castiel explains angrily.

“What are you talking about?” John growls, taking a step towards the angel.

“You're too big. It’s in a crypt,” Aella says vacantly.

John’s eyes snap to her confusion. Castiel gives her a peculiar look before continuing, “Yes. It is at St. Michael’s Church. The crypt is so narrow only a child could get through and even then angels would realize it is gone and track whoever took it,” he says exasperated.

“Cas, can you sense me?” Aella asks.

“What?” he asks stupefied by her question.

“Can you sense me?” she repeats. 

“No, I can’t,” he answers uncertainly. “You’re blocked somehow,” he says with a confused expression. 

“I could get the key. I am small enough and my warding might last long enough to get it to a secure location,” she explains.

“How did you know the key was in a crypt?” Castiel asks.

“Never mind that. What happens if we get the key? Can we close the door then?” she questions.

“Assuming you could get the key, there would be one other complication,” Castiel states.

“Which would be?” Aella asks her patience wearing thin.

“… _for I have set before you an open door, which none shall shut barring the sacrifice of the guilty, the first and the last_ ,” he finishes. 

 Whoever unlocks the door has to be the one to close it," Bobby states. 

"Correct," Castiel confirms. “It only closes from the inside," he rasps.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter :)

Bobby unlocks the door to the house, holding it open for John and Aella before bolting it. “I am going to go check on Sam and Dean,” Aella says rushing up the stairs.  

“Just a second,” John orders, his voice harsh. Turning, her eyes narrow as she slowly walks down the stairs back to the entryway. Bobby stares at her, his expression a mix of awe and shock. John’s eyes are glued to the floor, his brow furrowed, face pensive.

The three of them stand in awkward silence until she says, “What is it?” eyes darting suspiciously between the two of them. When neither of them responds she snaps, “John! What is it?” unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

“How did you know?” John questions, still avoiding her eyes.

Exasperated she asks, “Know what?” gesturing vaguely.

“How did you know about the crypt?” John clarifies.  “You told Castiel not to worry about it, but I want to know,” he insists crossing his arms over his chest meeting her gaze. Aella grips the bannister, “I have nightmares sometimes,” she says casually.

“Nightmares that are now coming true? So premonitions?” John probes, rubbing his beard. She has been the recipient of his piercing gaze before, but it has never made her uncomfortable until now.

“Technically, it hasn’t come true yet,” she replies flippantly.

“Aella…” John warns.

Cutting him off, she shouts, “I don’t understand what it matters!” looking to Bobby for help. When he shakes his head she knows she is on her own.

“Pastor Jim told me you weren’t a demon. I trust him with my life and I would have never let you near Sam and Dean if he wasn’t sure, but we never considered you might be part angel,” John explains.

Aella laughs, “You can’t be fucking serious,” she says meeting John’s penetrating gaze. “John, my mother was human and trust me my father was not an angel,” she scoffs. “You heard Castiel. My mother fell. She lost her grace or whatever,” Aella rambles.

“And now you are having dreams that are coming true,” John argues.

Aella’s smile evaporates. “I told you. I have nightmares sometimes,” she repeats bitterly. “Bobby…” she entreats. 

“Sorry, kid. I am out of my element,” he says shaking his head. 

“I think you should sleep downstairs tonight,” John says.

Stunned, she stares at him. The pain in her chest is so profound and physical she struggles to breathe. Tears fill her eyes as a ripping sensation tears through her chest. “I am telling you, I am not part angel. I told you Anna was human. I would never…” she begins.

Gritting her teeth she quells the agonizing pain in her chest and glowers at John with a fury he has never seen before. “You can sleep downstairs,” she fumes. She turns to Bobby, “I warded Sam and Dean’s rooms while you and John were out. The walls will need a fresh coat of paint. There are enough symbols that if my killer angel instincts kick in, I won’t be able to get inside,” she says cynically.

“Good night,” she says before turning her back on both of them walking up the stairs to her room.


	46. Chapter 46

Sitting in silence as John drives to St. Michael’s Church, Aella stares out the window. It is a beautiful day, the sky an endless blue, which only adds to her bitter mood. After spending half of the night staring at John’s side of the bed, she finally fell into a restless sleep. When she emerged from her room, she paused on the stairs overhearing Bobby tell John he could make a box for the key using the symbols she drew on the walls in Sam and Dean’s room. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. When Dean asked if she was okay, she just hugged him and insisted she was fine. John asked if she was ready and she wordlessly pulled her gray hoodie over her head before sliding into the passenger seat of his truck, now watching as open pastures roll passed.

John parks the truck and they both stare at the church. Breaking the silence, Aella says, “The key is in a hidden crypt,” risking a glance at John. Noting he doesn’t look any more rested than she does, she continues, “It isn’t actually a key. It is a blade,” she clarifies.

“How do you... ” John begins with an exasperated tone before stopping himself. The cabin of the truck feels cramped and she opens the passenger door taking a deep breath of the cold crisp air. 

The Church is empty and Aella walks towards a table of candles pretending to light one in prayer. She notices a corridor and wordlessly signals for John to follow her.  They walk down winding stairs and discover a cool basement with walls made of stone. Crucifixes, chalices, and incense burners sit haphazardly in a space that is obviously being used for storage. Examining the corners of the room she finds an opening. It is a dark narrow passageway that seems to lead to nowhere.

“Can you keep watch?” she requests in a detached tone. The fear of facing her worst nightmare is heightened by the tension between them. John’s accusation still hurts, a dull ache in her chest. She removes her hoodie setting it on the floor. Dressed in jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt, she stares into the crevice. Any curvier and she wouldn’t fit. As is, it will be a slow shuffle inching sideways praying the passage leads to the crypt she has only seen in her nightmares. Without a backwards glance, she slips between the walls.

John watches as Aella stares at the opening. She disappears between the walls before he walks over to the stairs to keep watch. Minutes pass as he recalls their argument. When he suggested Aella sleep downstairs, she looked as if he had slapped her. Her pain quickly morphed into anger and when John saw the dozens of symbols intricately painted on the walls of Sam and Dean’s rooms, he was the one to sleep downstairs. The apology he knew she deserved died on his lips when Dean asked if she was okay. She looked terrible and he knew she was hurting, but she just hugged him and insisted she was fine. He frowns checking his watch before he hears a strangled cry from the opening.

“John,” Aella cries desperately.

In seconds she sees him standing at the entrance of the narrow opening. “What’s wrong?” he asks. Pinned between the walls, he worries she is trapped. She feels the walls pushing against her rib cage squeezing the life out of her. She has barely enough space to breathe. She feels like she is being crushed alive.

“The walls,” she answers between short panicked gasps.

John gauges the distance she has left. It is about three feet. It might as well be ten miles if the terror on her face is any indication. John tries to wedge his shoulder between the gap but the space is too narrow and it is useless.

“You are so close. Just a little farther,” he urges.

“I can’t,” she sobs. She squeezes her eyes shut, “I die here. In my nightmares,” she confesses.

John’s heartbeats frantically in his chest, “Babygirl listen to me. You are not going to die here. You are so close. I can see you from here,” he swears.

“Nightmares... coming true,” she says her voice wracked with despair.

“Am I in your nightmares?” John asks. She doesn’t respond and he peers into the dark trying to see if she is still conscious. “Aella!” he shouts. “Aella, am I in your nightmares?” he demands.

Black dots dance pepper her vision as she fights to stay conscious. _You would have commanded legions_ , Castiel’s words ring in her ears. “No,” she answers.

Her progress is painstakingly slow as she inches towards John. He reaches for her hand as she closes the distance between them. Gently pulling her from the passageway, she closes her eyes and tears trail down her cheeks. With deep breaths, she sucks in damp air.

John’s hands cradle her face gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “You’re okay,” he assures, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re okay,” he repeats as her fingers dig into his shirt. He strokes her back while her tears wet his shirt. Finally calming, she clears her throat and wipes her eyes. “We should go,” she says hoarsely, distancing herself from him as she searches for her hoodie.

“Aella,” John says firmly. She glances at him with an apprehensive expression. “I am sorry,” he apologizes. She gives him a sad nod and he crosses the room. “I am sorry,” he repeats softly, tilting her mouth towards his kissing her tenderly. With the dagger in her waistband, she slips her hoodie on and walks up the stairs.


	47. Chapter 47

John walks into the house, Aella steps behind him. In seconds, Bobby meets them with an expectant look on his face. Aella removes the dagger from her waistband and hands it to him. He immediately turns, returning to the basement, leaving Aella and John standing in the entryway.

“I thought for sure you were going to get pulled over,” Aella says awkwardly. John drove well over the speed limit racing to get to Bobby’s. The drive from the church was just as quiet as the drive to it. Unease lingers between the two of them. Glancing around the foyer, she doesn’t wait for a response before stating, “I think I am going to take a walk,” and walking out the door. 

Minutes later, Bobby emerges from the basement. “All good?” John asks.

“I think… put every sigil and warding I could think of and then some. This is unchartered territory for me, but I guess we’ll know if angels ring the doorbell,” he answers sarcastically.

“Where is Aella?” he asks after glancing around the room.

“She needed some air,” John responds turning and looking at the front door, 

Eyeing John skeptically, he asks, “Did you apologize?” wondering what happened at the church.

“Yeah,” John says rubbing his tired eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What did you say?” Bobby questions with a frown.

With a patronizing tone, he answers, “Sorry?” staring at Bobby with a confused expression.

“Jesus Christ, John. I hope you said it like you meant it,” Bobby criticizes.

John clears his throat, his eyes finding the corner of the room. “She dies,” he says oddly.

Confused, Bobby asks “What?” feeling completely out of the loop.

“She dies,” John repeats before glancing at Bobby. “In her nightmares. She dies in the crypt,” he explains.

“Angels?” Bobby asks his voice laden with disbelief.

“No. Crushed to death between the walls,” John clarifies.

“Balls,” Bobby mummers. Seconds pass before he breaks the heavy silence. “So all that hollering you did yesterday about her nightmares coming true and she spent the night wondering if she was going to die?” Bobby shouts.

“Yeah,” John answers with a resigned tone.

“You are an ass, John Winchester,” Bobby says shaking his head as he walks to the kitchen.

John is sitting at the kitchen table sipping a beer when he hears the door open. Aella walks into the kitchen, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She reaches for a glass after slipping off her hoodie. Filling it with water, she takes a sip and finds John intently watching her. “We should get those scrapes looked at,” he suggests.

Red rash like patches cover her arms. “They aren’t bad,” she counters.

“Still, no reason to let them get infected,” he says rising and walking over to the kitchen sink. Pulling out the first aid kit from under the cabinet, he sets it on the kitchen table and moves his beer to the side. Aella watches as he unpacks gauze, medical tape and a tube. She is about to sit at the kitchen table when he interjects, “Probably best to clean it first,” tilting his head towards the sink. Turning on the faucet, she holds her forearm under the stream of water.

With her back to him, he says, “Bobby thinks I am an ass,” in a preoccupied tone.

“What do you think?” she asks staring out the window in front of the kitchen sink. The water turns icy and she turns it off shaking the excess drops from her arms before sitting at the kitchen table.

He squeezes the tube and takes a seat before rubbing the salve over her arm. She glares at him in silence waiting for his response. His hand gently massages her forearm while he stares intently at her chafed skin, avoiding her gaze. She clenches her jaw refusing to be the first to break the silence in their standoff.

“I think I was wrong,” John says while applying a bandage to her arm. Tearing a piece of medical tape he affixes it to her skin. “I overreacted and I am sorry,” he finishes finally meeting her gaze.

“I’m on your side,” she swears staring into his dark remorseful eyes.


	48. Chapter 48

Aella stands, John’s eyes watching as she walks over to his chair and sits in his lap. With her arms wrapped around his neck, thighs straddling him, she brushes her lips against his. John’s hands grip her hips and she swirls her tongue in his mouth, running her fingers through his thick hair. When his right hand wanders and he roughly squeezes her plump ass cheek, she tugs his hair, tilting his head back and deepening the kiss. His warm hands dance against the smooth skin of her back searching for the clasp of her bra focused on getting her perfect tits in his mouth. Aella sucks the spot just under his ear before blowing on his wet skin eliciting a deep groan. She is already soaking wet and all she can think about is the throbbing between her legs. She needs him inside of her sucking and teasing her soft folds before fucking her as they both chase their release. Her heart beats loudly in her chest, “I need you,” she murmurs in his ear.

With only shreds of self-control remaining, John warns, “Kitten,” his admonishing growl at odds with his wandering hands. John hears a faint fluttering sound and sees Castiel standing in the kitchen.

“Why do humans call each other by other species’ names?” Castiel interrupts. Startled by the gruff voice, Aella looks over her shoulder and almost falls to the floor.

“Castiel!” she shouts while John stands quickly, setting her on her feet. Seconds later, Bobby runs into the room, shotgun in hand. He immediately recognizes the angel, but only slightly relaxes his grip on the weapon.

“What are you doing here?” Bobby questions.

“We didn’t summon you,” Aella adds crossing her arms over her chest.

“I know,” Castiel acknowledges. “Aella is the only one of you I can’t locate. Do you have it?” he asks urgently.

When nobody responds, he continues, “It is probably best I don’t know. The angels know it is missing. If I can’t sense it, odds are slim they can. Besides they are preoccupied with preparing for battle,” Castiel rambles. 

“So, soon then,” John prompts.

“Yes. Although the coordination of hundreds of angels is more extensive than you would imagine. I would estimate two weeks,” he explains.

Grabbing her hoodie off the counter, Aella slides it over her head. “What about once the door opens? How much time will we have to close it?” she asks leaning against the table. 

“You are envisioning a tidal wave. When the doors open, it will be a leak. Water drips prior to becoming a trickle. A cracked foundation results in multiple streams before no number of plugs can prevent the collapse. It will be swift, but not instantaneous,” he clarifies.

“Will you be able to tell who opened the gate?” Bobby asks.

“To an extent,” he responds. 

“So before angels descend you could tell us what you know about who opened the gate?” Aella muses. “Before you join your brothers and sister,” Aella adds hastily.

“In theory, although given the ambiguity regarding the act that will open the portal…” Castiel begins.

“But you could do it?” Aella interrupts.

“Yes,” Castiel answers.

“That’s better than nothing,” Aella says with a shrug glancing at John and Bobby.

After Castiel departs, Bobby returns to the basement. With a sigh, John kisses Aella on the forehead before checking on Sam and Dean. Her head swims as she deliberates over Castiel’s revelation. With the key to close the door, the only challenge is convincing the poor son-of-a-bitch who opens it to sacrifice themselves for mankind. Deciding it is going to be a long two weeks, she decides to find Sam and Dean.


	49. Chapter 49

Aella walks into the boys’ room just as John and Dean are leaving. “Hey,” she greets, noting Dean’s smile and Sam’s moody disposition. “What’s up?” she asks giving John a questioning look.

“Dean and I are going to go work on the Impala. Sammy is going to stay here,” John explains.

“Got it. Have fun,” she says messing up Dean’s hair. Silence unfolds as Aella glances around the room. With two twin beds, side tables and dressers it is similar to hers save for the collection of comic books in the corner. “Everything alright?” Aella asks sitting on Dean’s bed watching Sam play with the Gameboy.

“Yeah,” he responds shortly.

She picks up Dean’s Gameboy, “Think Dean will mind if I borrow this?” she questions with a smile.

“Only if you beat his high score,” Sam answers the faint sounds of Zelda emanating from his device.

“Come on. Move over,” she orders signaling for Sam to move. He shifts to the edge of the bed making room for her. Aella lays on her back after popping in a cartridge. Tetris loads and minutes pass as she plays in silence. “Why didn’t you want to go with Dean and your dad?” she asks casually never taking her eyes off the screen. 

“Cars are boring,” Sam answers nonchalantly.

“Oh. I thought you and Dean had a fight,” she says absently letting the statement hang between them.

“He keeps saying he wishes we could stay here. I like Bobby’s, but I like school too. I don’t want to move again,” he admits, resting the video game on his chest.

Aella lowers her game, turning to her side watching Sam as he stares at the ceiling. Although tall for his age, he looks far too young to wear such an anxious expression. “Dean is your brother and he will always love you, even if you like different things,” she assures. Met with silence, she insists, “You know it will be okay, right?” immediately wishing she hadn’t.

“Promise?” he asks searching her face for comfort. Aella’s heart beats loudly in her chest and her mouth is dry. As far as she knows, John hasn’t shared any of the details of the Devil’s Gate with them. Sam’s shaggy hair falls into his big brown eyes and she knows she shouldn’t but she says, “I promise,” praying it won’t be a lie. Sam returns to his game and minutes pass before she resumes her own. She swears she will think of something, but decides spending time with Sam is exactly where she needs to be right now.

Two hours later, John discovers the two of them still on Sam’s bed playing video games. “I swear Sam, the blocks have names,” Aella claims.

“How could blocks have names?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. The square one is Smashboy and the rectangle is Hero which kind of makes sense,” she explains.

“They don’t even have faces!” Sam argues.

John knocks on the door interrupting their conversation. His shirt is stained with grease and he is holding a cloth wiping his hands. His black hair is still disheveled, but his eyes are brighter and his expression is less severe. “Bobby is on his way back with pizza. Thought we could watch a movie while we eat. Sam, go help Dean get some plates. Bobby should be here any minute,” John says motioning downstairs with his head.

Aella smiles as she watches Sam drops his Gameboy on the bed, and says “Sure,” Sam rushing downstairs. Sitting up, Aella tells John “You look like you are in a better mood,” before she stands intent on following Sam. “So does Sam,” he says watching her push a strand of golden brown hair from her face. “Save me a slice,” he orders.

“No promises,” she smiles making her way downstairs.

John smiles to himself while he quickly finishes washing up. He walks down the stairs and discovers Bobby seated in a recliner while Aella serves pizza and Dean flips through the channels. Sam runs back and forth from the kitchen, first handing Bobby a beer and then juggling three sodas. Aella asks him to grab John a beer and pass out napkins and soon they are all settled. With Sam and Dean seated on the floor, Aella sets a plate in front of John before handing him a beer. He stares at the food, glancing at Sam and Dean before his eyes land on Aella. When she jokes with Bobby producing a laugh from Sam and Dean, John can’t believe how lucky he is, impending doomsday and all.


	50. Chapter 50

When the credits roll, Aella glances at Bobby and finds him asleep on the recliner. While Dean turns the television off, she starts to collect empty plates and cans when John offers to pick up. Exhausted, she walks up the stairs and prepares for bed before sitting cross-legged on the bed pouring over Pastor Jim’s book. Preoccupied with the passage she is reading, she barely notices John slip into the room. 

“Boys are down for the night,” he says.

She mumbles a vague response before looking up at John. “You have trapped a demon before right?” she asks.

“Yeah. Why?” John asks pulling his shirt over his head.

“If you can trap a demon, couldn’t you trap an angel?” she proposes. Not waiting for a response she continues, “The mechanics seem like they are essentially the same...” before flipping through the book. 

“Aella, until we summoned Castiel I didn’t even know angels existed,” John explains.  

“I guess that does change things significantly. They don’t seem particularly concerned with protecting the human race either. It would just be nice to have the upper hand for once,” she sighs staring up at John.

“We will talk to Bobby tomorrow,” John says realizing she is wearing his underwear. The white band of his boxer briefs sitting low on her hips contrasts her bronzed skin. The scalloped edges of her white lace camisole end just above her belly button exposing her toned stomach. “I think everyone needs a break,” he says noticing the way the intricate lace barely covers the curve of her round breast. With a groan, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins unlacing his boots.  

When the mattress dips Aella looks up admiring John’s shoulders and sinewy arms. Marking her page, she places the book on the side table and slips off the bed. Walking over to the edge of bed, she kneels down in front of John slipping off his unlaced boots. She stares up at him before carrying them to the closet. She tosses the boots into the closer and John’s left arm snakes around her waist. “I have never seen this before,” he says fingering the thin strap of her top dragging his fingers to the center of her chest.  Aella closes her eyes, her back pressed against his warm chest. “These I recognize,” he whispers placing his palm between her legs. When he runs his mouth along her neck she pushes herself against his hand. “Such a good girl,” he says huskily. 

Without warning Dean barrels through the door and John releases her. “Dad! Aella! There is something is wrong with Sam,” he shouts. Aella furrows her brow in confusion before running down the hall to the boys’ room. She immediately notices the sheen of sweat on Sam’s face as he thrashes back and forth. A blanket is tangled around his torso and he tries to kick it off, fists clenched. 

“What happened?” John demands as he walks into the room, Dean at his heels.

“I don’t know! We were sleeping and he just started talking and he won’t wake up,” Dean recounts in a panicked voice.

“He is having a nightmare. Dean, can you go get a washcloth from the bathroom and wet it? Make sure it's damp,” Aella instructs calmly. After Dean leaves the room, she pulls the blanket back, untangling it from Sam’s body and neatly folding it at the foot of the bed. John watches Sam with worried eyes when Aella tells him, “I don’t know why he isn’t waking up,” carefully sitting on the bed next to Sam. When Dean returns with the towel and she places it on Sam’s forehead. “Sam?” she calls softly.

He continues to writhe and John runs his fingers through his hair. “Dean, go get Bobby,” he orders. Dean runs out the door towards Bobby’s room.

“Sammy?” Aella calls again. Suddenly Sam’s eyes open and without warning his arms are wrapped around Aella’s neck. Alarmed, she wraps her arms around him. “Sam?” she repeats trying to check and see if he is awake. Tears soak her shoulder as he whispers into her neck. “You died,” he says softly.

“I am right here,” she says rubbing his back. “I am here with you,” she repeats.

“You died,” he repeats. She shifts him slightly, but when he doesn’t release her she gives John a worried look. 

“It’s okay,” she assures his grip relentless.

 


	51. Chapter 51

John and Bobby stand in the corner of the bedroom discussing what to do about Sam. Dean describes what happened while John squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. Aella reaches for the damp washcloth, wiping the sweat from Sam’s face and neck. Her arms are numb, but she continues to rub his back in wide circles. When John sits on the bed next to her, she tries to maneuver Sam into his arms before he cries “No,” renewing his grasp around her neck.  

“Sammy,” Aella whispers in his ear. “I am here. I am right here with you,” she gently insists. Seconds pass before he finally eases his hold.

“Bobby is going to set a cot up in our room,” John explains as she transfers Sam into his arms.

Aella glances at Dean, “What about Dean?” she asks watching him follow Bobby.

“Dean is fine,” John responds tersely. Aella grabs Sam’s pillow and blanket following John to the bedroom.

Sam struggles to stay awake and she decides his nightmare must have been incredibly vivid for him to be so scared. A sympathetic pang strikes her chest and she hugs his pillow watching him with worried eyes. Bobby and Dean maneuver the cot into the cramped room, unfolding it before spreading fresh sheets over the mattress. Aella thanks Bobby before turning to Dean. She crouches down and looks Dean in the eyes, “Are you sure you are okay sleeping alone?” she asks taking his hands in hers. 

“I am sure,” he quietly asserts.

“Okay. Goodnight,” she says squeezing his hand.

John runs his fingers through his hair and sighs after covering Sam with the blanket. Sam eyes close and he begins to fall asleep. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about,” John whispers sitting on the bed while staring at Sam.  

With an aloof expression, Aella answers, “He thought it was real,” her voice thick with understanding. Aella pulls back the sheets as John finishes changing for bed and walks towards the light switch. She slides under the covers wondering what happened in Sam’s dream. 

“… isn’t usually so clingy. I mean it’s not like I bring home a lot of women … he must have…” John says before Aella realizes he is talking to her.

“It’s fine,” she responds. “Honestly, don’t worry about it,” she says kindly, resting her head on the pillow, preoccupied with how she died.

Aella’s eyes flutter open as sunlight flits through the window. She blinks before glancing around the room realizing she is alone. Falling asleep was difficult and she isn’t surprised John and Sam are already awake. When her phone buzzes she frowns reaching for the nightstand realizing she has a text message and a voicemail. 

Cyrus: School called and asked if you are officially dropping out. Told them I haven’t seen you.

Aella stares at her phone trying to decide how she feels about Cyrus contacting her.  She pushes the thought to the side and listens to the voicemail. 

“Aella, it is Pastor Jim. I know you are at Bobby’s. The court called about your community service. I gave them an update and assured them you would finish the rest,” he says before the message ends.  

With unpleasant reminders of her life back in Blue Earth, she gets out of bed and grabs the nearest sweater before walking down the stairs. Slipping John’s oversized sweater over her head, she finds Sam and Dean eating cereal at the kitchen table while Bobby pours a cup of coffee from a carafe.

“Morning,” she greets giving the boys a smile.

“Rough night?” Bobby asks in a hushed tone noticing the bags under her eyes.

“Yeah,” she responds softly, watching Sam and Dean dig through the box of cereal for the prize at the bottom. Checking that the boys are still preoccupied, she asks, “How’s Sam?” before reaching for a mug.

“Seems fine,” Bobby responds.

“We need to talk,” serving herself some coffee. “Where is John?” she asks.

“Said he had errands to run,” Bobby answers.

Aella watches Sam amazed how at ease he seems after last night’s episode. “You are worried about Sam’s dream,” Bobby states. When she doesn’t respond, he continues, “It was just a nightmare. Don’t mean it’s going to come true,” in a firm tone.

“Mine almost did,” she states. “I am going to go shower,” she says, setting the mug down with more force than necessary.  


	52. Chapter 52

Aella is about to walk into the study when she hears Bobby say, “He sat there eating cereal with Dean like nothing happened,” her hand hovering over the door.

“And he hasn’t told you about the nightmare?” John asks.

“Won’t talk about it,” Bobby answers.

“He won’t tell me either. Whatever it was must have scared the shit out of him. Sam and Dean aren’t hunters, but they are tough kids,” John explains.

“Have you thought about training them?” Bobby questions.

“I got Dean a BB gun. He is a pretty good shot,” John states.

“You could ease them into it,” Bobby proposes.

Before John can respond, Aella pushes the sliding doors open. She finds Bobby seated behind the desk, John standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “Morning,” she greets half-heartedly.

Leaning over, John asks, “How did you sleep?” resting his hand on her lower back.

“Okay,” she lies, glancing at Bobby, relieved when she finds him staring at a pile of books. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continues, “Pastor Jim called me. Cyrus texted me too,” watching John scowl.

“What did Jim want?” Bobby inquires.

“The court called asking for an update on my community service hours,” she explains.

“And Cyrus?” John asks his voice hard.

Aella sighs, “The high school called and asked if I am officially dropping out. I wasn’t exactly on the honor roll, but I didn’t really want to be a high school drop out,” she says cynically.

“So don’t be,” Bobby states.

“Bobby, the world might end,” Aella admonishes.

“Might. We have the key to lock the door. Castiel is going to let us know when the gate opens. All we have to do is find out who opened it and get them to close it,” Bobby summarizes.

“From the inside,” Aella reminds him. “We don’t even know how to lock it. The key is a blade remember?” she insists.

“I could be oversimplifying here but the _sacrifice of the guilty_ and the key being a knife ain’t exactly rocket science,” Bobby counters.

“Bobby is right,” John interjects. “It is a waiting game now. We have the blade but tracking down who opened the door … maybe Rufus and Bill can help us cover more ground?” John suggests.   

“I could give them a call,” Bobby agrees.

“Then I guess we are going back to Blue Earth,” Aella says.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I’ll tell Sam and Dean,” John replies. 

Amazed at how quickly the decision is made, Aella spends the rest of the morning packing. She makes Sam and Dean lunch, cutting their sandwiches into triangles before offering to make Bobby one.  With the lunchmeat and condiments still on the counter, she searches for John. Walking out the front door, she calls his name and finds him in the garage. 

“Hey, I was looking for you,” she says before her gaze is pulled to the most beautiful car she has ever seen. The ’67 Chevy Impala is flawless. Without a scratch, the exterior shines. The body is sleek and the chrome trim accentuates the glossy black. Speechless, she stares at the car. With the sleeves of his white t-shirt rolled, John wipes his hand on a towel staring at Aella.

“You okay?” he asks noticing her eyes are fixated on the car.

With shallow breaths, she tries to ignore the throbbing need between her legs and clears her throat, “Yeah. I am fine,” she claims.

John smirks, “You into cars?” he asks standing in front of her.

“I am into this car,” she responds her eyes scanning the smudges of grease on John’s bicep.

John takes a step forward and she bumps against the workbench behind her. Leaning in close so he is almost touching her, he whispers, “You want me to fuck you in that car don’t you?” and suddenly she can’t breathe. She closes her eyes and grips the table. “I need to hear you say it, kitten,” he teases. 

“I want you to fuck me in that car,” she gasps.  

“Good girl,” he approves. “Come on. I have to go get cleaned up,” he says patting her ass and somehow her legs carry her back to the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter yet.


	53. Chapter 53

Showered and ready, Aella sits on the bed staring vacantly at her packed bag. Last night was exhausting. When John told the boys they would be driving home today, Dean stormed off and Sam went upstairs to pack. Dinner was tense, Dean unhappy with leaving and Sam growing increasingly agitated as the night progressed. Just before bed, Sam had a complete meltdown and after midnight John finally relented and let him sleep on the cot in their room again. Realizing she has been staring at the floor for fifteen minutes, she grabs her backpack and walks to boys’ room. “Ready?” she asks slinging Sam’s bag over her shoulder before ushering them outside.

She finds John and Bobby outside loading the car when she sees the Impala. “Going to leave the truck here at Bobby’s,” John says taking the bag hanging from her shoulder and loading it into the trunk.  

With nothing left to do but say bye she turns to Bobby. He is bent down talking to Dean with his hand on his shoulder, Sam listening quietly at his brother’s side. Bobby gives them a quick hug before patting John on the shoulder telling him he will see him soon.

Despite the mild spring weather Aella shivers with unease as John slides behind the wheel. “So much for that normal life,” Aella jokes staring at Bobby.

“You might finish high school,” Bobby offers. 

“Yeah,” she agrees half-heartedly. “I am starting to think this is the new normal,” she quips. “Thanks, Bobby. For everything,” she says gratefully.

“Yeah, yeah. Get your ass in the car before John leaves you,” he scolds. She gives him a quick hug before sliding into the front seat. With a roar the Impala rumbles out of the junkyard and soon they are on the interstate. Sam falls asleep against a duffel bag while Dean plays Super Mario Brothers on his Gameboy. Farmland passes by and a tranquil silence fills the car. 

Hours later John exits the highway pulling into a tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere. “I’ll be right back,” he says grabbing his wallet before heading inside. Aella checks the backseat and finds Sam still sleeping and Dean’s eyes glued to the screen.

“How’s it going?” she asks softly. 

“Fine,” Dean answers. “I am going to stretch my legs,” he says quickly and before she can stop him he is out of the car. 

Minutes pass and John and Dean are both still gone. Glancing back at Sam she grabs the keys from the ignition and locks him in the car. Squinting, she can see John inside arguing with the attendant, but Dean is nowhere in sight. 

Thinking he may have gone to the bathroom, she walks around the building towards the restrooms and sees Dean struggling against a blonde woman. She is dragging him towards a white van where a man with a baseball cap sits with the engine idling.

Shocked, her heart skips a few beats before she realizes what is happening. “Dean!” she shouts running towards them. Midstride, she wraps her arms around the stranger’s waist and they hit the ground hard. The asphalt is coarse and broken glass digs into Aella’s palms.

Helping Dean up first, she yells, “Run!” standing before the woman grabs a hold of her ankle and tugs hard sending her crashing into the gravelly blacktop. Rolling onto her back, the woman kicks Aella in the ribs and she winces. When she tries to kick her again, Aella grabs her shoe and twists her foot at an unnatural angle producing a sickening pop.

With a guttural scream the woman falls to the floor grasping her leg, her foot no longer aligned with her knee. Abandoning his accomplice, the man speeds away in the van as Aella slowly stands grimacing at the pain shooting up her side.

Seconds later John runs over with the gas station attendant. “We saw everything!” the heavyset man explains. “The police are on their way,” he exclaims keeping his distance from the woman shrieking on the ground.

“Aella? Aella!” John shouts when she doesn’t respond. Realizing she is gripping her side, he lifts her shirt scanning the bruise.

“Jesus fucking ...” he begins glaring at the woman.

“Dean? The van ...” she wheezes gritting her teeth against the pain.

“Dean is inside locked in the supply closet. He is fine,” John clarifies. 

Shuddering, Aella slowly hobbles to the front of the building. The bell chimes as she walks through the doors heading straight for the supply closet. She can hear Dean screaming and banging on the door. Unlocking it slowly, he rushes out abruptly stopping when he sees her. 

“You are okay,” she says, a statement not a question. She needed to see him with her own eyes.

“I am okay,” he repeats.

“Let’s go,” she says closing her eyes limping as he leads her to the car.


	54. Chapter 54

When John’s fraudulent credit card is denied, he makes the clerk run it again. Engaged in a heated argument whether the card or the register is to blame, he freezes when he sees Aella and Dean on the security camera. With no audio, he watches Aella help Dean to his feet before a bedraggled woman grabs her ankle and pulls hard. The grainy footage shows Aella smash into the asphalt, roll onto her back and take a hard kick to the ribs. Curled into a ball, Aella grabs the stranger’s foot and twists when she tries to kick her again. The motion is practiced and she executes it without hesitation. Aella attempts to stand ignoring the stranger clutching her knee writhing on the ground in pain. The attendant’s eyes are wide and he immediately reaches for the phone.

Rushing into the gas station, Dean yells, “Dad! Some crazy woman tried to drag me to her car!” he explains. Glancing around the room, John grabs Dean tossing him into a supply closet before locking the door. Ignoring Dean’s shouting, he runs outside just as a white van peels out of the parking lot speeding towards the interstate. He finds Aella, palms bloody with bits of asphalt imbedded in her arms. Her lip is bleeding and she is clutching her side. With a ripped t-shirt and her hair falling out of her ponytail she looks terrible. John repeats her name and when she doesn’t answer, he lifts her shirt eyeing the gruesome bruise forming on her torso.  With pained gasps, she brushes passed him limping into the gas station after asking about Dean.

John hears sirens in the distance. The wailing grows louder and suddenly an ambulance and cop car are speeding towards the station. John measures the distance to the Impala and realizes he would have to leave Aella and Dean. When he hears car doors slam, he swears as two officers walk towards him and paramedics jump out of the ambulance and unload a gurney. 

“I saw everything,” the employee repeats while John glances at the doors.

An older cop walks towards John, “I will take your statement in just second Bruce,” he says condescendingly, a young rookie trailing behind him.

With his arms crossed over his chest resting on his huge gut, he asks, “Who the fuck are you?” in a hostile tone.

“Bert Afrmian,” John answers just as Aella and Dean walk outside.

Inconspicuously grabbing Dean’s hand, Aella scans the scene in front of her. Loading the gurney into the back of an ambulance, the paramedics struggle to restrain the frenzied woman. An overweight middle-aged cop glares at John when his partner notices her and Dean and begins walking towards them.

Scanning her injuries he says, “I am going to have to ask you a few questions,” in an unsympathetic tone. Before she can answer a paramedic walks over and wordlessly guides her to the bench outside of the gas station.

“This woman is hurt,” he admonishes. She can sense Dean’s unease as he fidgets next to her on the bench. The paramedic rips open a packet and begins to wipe the dirt and asphalt from her arms and hands.

The EMT shakes his head in disbelief when the officer insists, “She can answer a few questions” pulling a notebook from his pocket.  Searching for a pen, Aella risks a glance at John noting his ominous expression and speculating why he would lie about his name.

Taking a huge gamble, she begins, “My husband and I stopped for gas. My son went to stretch his legs and when he didn’t come back I went looking for him. I saw that woman trying to drag him into a white van. I stopped her,” Aella relates.

“Your son?” he questions.

“Stepson,” she clarifies.

“You are Mr. Afrmian’s wife?” he asks skeptically.

Losing her patience, she snaps, “You are a quick study,” not bothering to hide her sarcasm. “You probably don’t even need the video footage inside,” she taunts.

Anger seethes in the officer’s eyes but before he can respond the paramedic prods Aella’s side. Inhaling sharply, she clenches her jaw. “I have done everything I can for you. You need to come with us to the hospital,” he orders.

Standing from the bench, Aella says, “I am not getting in the ambulance with that woman. Bert can drive me to the hospital,” before grabbing Dean’s hand.  With a determined gaze, she totters towards John wordlessly sliding into the front seat while he holds the passenger door open for her.


	55. Chapter 55

Stirring from her sleep, Aella feels the car turn before coming to a stop. She hears the faint murmur of John’s voice followed by the rustle of bags and slamming of car doors. Blinking, she sees Sam and Dean carrying bags into the house and realizes they are home. She is mentally preparing herself for the walk from the car to the house when the passenger door opens.

Aella turns in her seat and stares up at John. He stands with one arm on the passenger door, the other on the hood of the Impala. Blocking her path, she recognizes his expression and refrains from rolling her eyes. John’s t-shirt stretches across his chest exposing his muscular arms and inches of his tan hip. She is seconds away from puling him into the car by the belt buckle when he interrupts, “I don’t know whether to kiss you or strangle you,” in a reprimanding tone.  

Dragging her eyes to his face, she shamelessly responds, “You know some girls like both,” with a brazen expression. 

“That isn’t funny,” John scolds, his jaw clenched.

Gesturing to the house she exclaims, “Come on, John. Dean is fine!” exasperated with him.

“Because of you,” he snaps.

She shakes her head in disbelief, “Is that your way of saying thank you? If it is, you really need to work on your communication skills...” she begins.

“Aella, I am serious,” he says harshly, running his fingers through his hair. 

“So am I, John. Sam is already having nightmares ... if you blow this out of proportion Dean is going to live the rest of his life in fear,” she claims.

Slamming his palm on the top of the car, John shouts, “He should be afraid!” before glancing around the neighborhood checking to see if anyone is outside.

“He is twelve, John!” Aella chastises. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs “Jesus Christ,” before she continues. “He is okay. I am okay,” she says slowly as if he is dim-witted.

Minutes pass in silence and Aella wraps her arms around her waist staring at him stubbornly. “You took that woman down pretty fast,” John says. It is a question veiled as a statement and just when John thinks she won’t respond, she says, “I knew if she got Dean into that van we would never see him again,” in a vacant tone. Before he can question how she restrained the woman so quickly, she asks, “Why the alias?”  with a furrowed brow.

“Fake credit cards,” John rationalizes.

Nodding her head she stares at the house again. “Can we go inside now or are we going to keep arguing in the driveway?” she asks tersely.

“Come on,” he says before helping her out of the car.  

Limping up the stairs, she finds Dean standing in the hallway waiting for her with anxious eyes. Concerned, she asks “Everything okay?” in a light tone; worried he is struggling to come to terms with his near abduction. 

In a fragile voice that is unlike him, he says, “I am sorry,” with guilt-ridden eyes. A heavy ache settles in her chest when she realizes Dean blames himself. She drops to her knees, ignoring her raw palms and throbbing side, and pulls him into a hug.

He tenses against her before wrapping his arms around her neck. “Dean, what happened at the gas station was not your fault,” she assures softly. She closes her eyes holding him a second longer before releasing him. John walks up the stairs with her bag and finds her with Dean. 

“You should rest. I am going to run an errand and then fill Pastor Jim in on the plan,” he shares.

“I’ll go talk to Pastor Jim,” Aella insists, suppressing a groan as she stands.  

“You should rest,” John repeats.

“I am fine,” Aella reiterates. “Take the boys. I will go see Pastor Jim. We have things to talk about,” she says her tone rigid. John shakes his head in disbelief before lightly pushing the hair back from her face.

“At least get yourself cleaned up before you go over there. You will scare the daylights out of his parishioners,” he advises glancing at her bloody lip. 

“I will,” she agrees. He gently wraps his arms around her waist and kisses the side of her head.

“I will get you something for the pain. So you can sleep tonight,” he whispers. She nods resting her head against his shoulder thankful to be home.


	56. Chapter 56

Dressed in fresh clothes with her wet hair twisted into a thick braid over her shoulder, she pushes the Church doors open and walks into the vestibule. The Minnesota weather is warming and her cropped black sweater layered under her black leather jacket is enough against the cold. She scans the atrium and in seconds Pastor Jim is quickly approaching her. In his black vestments, mussed thin brown hair and deep lines etched into his face, he greets her with a perplexed expression.  “Aella,” he welcomes, eyes fixated on her face. She washed the dried blood from her mouth, but her lip is still swollen. 

“Pastor Jim,” she replies. “Busy?” she ridicules slowly examining the empty pews.

With a blank expression, he says, “Follow me,” turning towards the nave.

She holds her breath exhaling only when she realizes they are not visiting the crypt. Pastor Jim leads her down a narrow hallway before opening the door to a modest office. She scans the shelves lined with books on marriage, faith, and counseling before taking a seat in the wooden chair across from his desk. The carpet is a drab maroon and small pieces of artwork depicting the crucifixion of Jesus hang from the walls.  Taking a seat behind the desk, he asks, “Did that happen while you were trying to retrieve the blade?” gesturing to her face.

“No,” she responds curtly. “I am guessing you already talked to Bobby then,” she adds. 

“He called me after he talked to Rufus. He is going to call Bill Harvelle too. Hunters don’t normally work well together, but Bobby has always been there for all of us,” he explains.  

Easing back into the seat, she mocks, “And here I was hoping to be the one to tell you angels are actually dicks,” crossing her arms over her chest.

Confused he begins, “I was under the impression they would help. That there was a small window of opportunity in which Castiel…” his brow creased in confusion.

“Castiel said he would do what he can, but he is loyal to his brother and sisters,” she clarifies staring at the paintings. “You have trapped a demon before right?” she asks curiously leaning forward in her seat.

Gripping the arms of his chair, he probes, “Yes. Why do you ask?” with a skeptical expression.

Aella stares at Pastor Jim with an arched brow, “When Castiel comes to warn us, I would like more than just vague approximations. I suspect he can help more than he lets on,” she says.

Pastor Jim shakes his head, “You want to trap an angel of the Lord and force him to help us?” his voice laced with disbelief. 

“Given the right incentive, I think he could provide essential information before he flies off,” Aella says bitterly.

Minutes pass as Pastor Jim folds his hands on the table considering her statement, “What does John think?” he questions.

Aella presses her lips into a thin line. “John is preoccupied. Someone tried to abduct Dean on our way back to Blue Earth. I am almost certain Dean was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it has John on edge. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about Castiel yet,” she confesses.

“So that’s how you got those bruises? Wrong place wrong time?” Pastor Jim inquires.

Still in disbelief, she shakes her head with an incredulous expression, “I would consider it the right place the right time,” she says in a serious tone. 

Redirecting the conversation, Pastor Jim asks, “Why are you actually talking to me instead of John about trapping Castiel?” after standing from his chair.

“I haven’t done this as long as John and Bobby, or at all really, but finding the person who opened the portal, getting them to the gate and convincing them to sacrifice themselves…” she summarizes, “I just think it would be smart to have a backup plan,” she shares. 

“I am not sure I am agreeable to coercing Castiel into helping us,” Pastor Jim says resolutely.

Aella stares at Pastor Jim with an assessing gaze, “I should have anticipated you wouldn’t be,” she says introspectively. “Thank you for giving the court an update on my community service. I am going back to school tomorrow. Otherwise, I will be at John’s,” she says coolly before walking out the door.


	57. Chapter 57

Aella unlocks the door, smiling when she hears Sam, Dean and John in the front room. In a bewildered tone, Sam asks, “What does it do?” standing in front of a flimsy card table with a radio placed on top, Dean at his side. John adjusts the dials, “It is a police scanner. It broadcasts police, fire and emergency communications,” he answers absently, not realizing Aella is home. When she bolts the door, he looks over his shoulder. “Hey,” he greets still crouched next to the transistor.

With a skeptical expression, she asks, “Police scanner?” staring at the enormous receiver.

“Yeah. _Virtue stolen from the innocent_ sounds pretty criminal to me. I thought it might give us a leg up when Castiel comes,” he explains before a blank voice fills the room with police jargon. John decreases the volume reducing it to background noise.

“You are assuming whoever opens the gate will be from Sioux Falls and that someone will call 911,” she says tersely sliding her jacket off and setting it on the sofa.

Walking into the kitchen, she grabs a glass and turns on the faucet. “Bobby, Rufus, and Jim have one too,” John replies, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, well then,” she responds sarcastically, filling her glass.

Watching her carefully, John asks, “What’s wrong with you?” wishing he had insisted she rested before visiting Pastor Jim. Between the lack of sleep and pain from her injuries, she must be running on fumes.

When Aella glances at the front room and finds it empty, she answers, “We are relying on Castiel and he said he could identify who opened the gate _to an extent_ ,” she criticizes.

“Bobby has talked to hunters all across the country. We can keep researching, but I am running out of ideas,” John admits. Aella presses her lips together as she scans John’s weary expression. She considers suggesting they trap Castiel before deciding against it, resigned to scouring Pastor Jim’s book on her own. She sets her glass on the counter before walking to John and wrapping her arms around his waist. Flush against him, she rests her chin on his chest and stares up at him, “I know you are trying,” she reassures.

He stares at her beautiful face: bronzed skin, rosy cheeks, long lashes and sapphire eyes. Rubbing his thumb guiltily over her swollen lip, he asks, “How do you feel?” with worried eyes.

“Okay,” she answers closing her eyes and resting her cheek against his chest. John’s torso is warm and his fingers undo the braid in her hair. He massages her scalp drawing out an appreciative purr causing his dick to stiffen.

He runs his large calloused hands over the sides of her toned flat stomach before cupping her butt. He lightly squeezes appreciating the way each round cheek generously fills the palm of his hands. Trailing her hands to his waist, she begins to slowly unbuckle his belt. In a rough voice he asks, “Are you going back to school tomorrow?” nuzzling her neck.

“Mmm, I am,” she explains distracted by his jeans. His cock is stiff at the thought of bending her over in her short plaid skirt.  Eyes filled with longing, she stares up at him while unbuttoning his pants. “I want you,” she whispers running her hand over his crotch. Feverish with need, she imagines him thrusting inside of her leaving bruises on her hips. She wants him to pull her hair as she tightens around him driving into her before she squirts. She wants to ride him and see the hunger in his eyes when she calls him Daddy. And when he is spent she wants to lick him clean and hear his deep voice call her kitten as she presses herself against him assured he is fully sated.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he takes a step away from her, “Babygirl, you are running on even less sleep than I am, your arms are scraped to shit and that bruise on your side has got to be hurting. If it isn’t, it will be soon,” he relents. “Dinner, rest, school tomorrow,” he outlines before pressing his lips against hers tenderly.

John holds the door open for Aella as she walks into the Chinese hole in the wall. She is engaged in an animated conversation with Sam and Dean as John walks to the counter to pick up their order. Pulling his wallet out from his back pocket, he smiles at Aella watching her negotiate with the boys. “My car is not that old!” she protests.

“Okay, how about you drop us off half a block from school?” Dean proposes.

“Well if your dad wants to lend me the Impala then all our problems are solved,” she teases looking up at John finding him staring at her.

Shaking his head, he grabs the takeout bag and rests his hand on her lower back. “Babygirl that is not happening” he laughs resting his hand on her lower back guiding them out of the restaurant.

Aella feels the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, but when she scans the parking lot it is empty. “Everything okay?” John asks.

“Yeah,” she says weakly. Shaking off the feeling, she decides not to tell John she thought she saw Cyrus.


	58. Chapter 58

John watches Aella brush her teeth in front of the bathroom sink. She is wearing his forest green plaid button down, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Partially unbuttoned her collarbone peeks out and the shirt ends just above her slim thighs. With dark shadows under her eyes, she looks exhausted. Pulling her hair back, she leans down and rinses her mouth before stepping into the bedroom. John reaches for a glass of water, “I got you something to help you sleep,” he says placing two small white pills in the palm of her hand before handing her the glass. 

“Thank you,” she smiles weakly, taking the glass from his hand.

Watching her drop the pills in her mouth, he asks “Are you sure you feel up to going to school tomorrow?” hoping she will change her mind. 

She takes a sip of water and laughs faintly. Wiping her mouth neatly she responds, “If I don’t go tomorrow, I will never go back. Besides, I told the boys I would drive them to school,” setting the glass down on the dresser. She crawls onto the bed and slips under the covers falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as her head touches the pillow. John watches the slight rise and fall of her chest. Assured she is asleep, he checks on Sam and Dean before preparing for bed.

Aella tugs at the sleeve of her black sweater layered over her white button down. Wincing at the slight pain in her side, she grabs books from her locker and stuffs them into her bag. With her school day finally over, she is grateful to no longer have to explain why she missed over a week of class.

As she walks to the parking lot she admires the ‘67 Impala. When her alarm sounded, John was barely awake, but by the time she dressed and the boys were ready, he was pouring himself a cup of coffee and handing her the keys. Roughly pulling his mouth down to meet hers, he wrapped his arm around her small waist as she kissed him greedily. After pulling her flush against his hard body, he released her remembering Sam and Dean were waiting for her in the other room.

Driving over to the middle school, she savors the soft leather against her bare thighs resting the urge to rub herself against the seat. The engine roars, the vibrations strumming at her core. Deciding the temptation to slip her fingers into her panties and touch herself while thinking of John is too much, she gets out of the car, leaning against the driver door while waiting for Sam and Dean. Aella’s stomach drops when she hears a familiar voice. “That is a nice ride,” Cyrus says from over her shoulder. Turning slowly, she glares at him. He looks pale and thin, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead.

“I told you to never talk to me again,” she warns sliding the key between her knuckles.

“Did your new boyfriend give you that car? To make up for the bloody lip?” he taunts. 

“You have no idea what you are talking about,” she asserts. When she hears the dismissal bell rings in the distance, she says, “You need to leave right now,” enraged that he would have the balls to approach her.

“Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your pretend mommy time. Tell me is John shooting blanks or can we expect another addition to the family?” he harasses. 

“Get out of here right now!” she shouts walking towards him.  

Stepping just out of her reach, he turns and begins making his way towards the intersection before sneering at her over her shoulder. Her hands shake as she tries to calm herself. With the gate to hell opening soon, she is reluctant to tell John about Cyrus especially if he thinks he might pose a risk to Sam and Dean. From over her shoulder she hears Dean’s voice.

“Aella? Are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. She glances at the intersection relieved to find Cyrus gone.

“I am fine. How was school?” she asks with a smile as the boys get into the car. As they buckle their seatbelts she listens to them recount their day while she agonizing over what to do about Cyrus.


	59. Chapter 59

Aella unlocks the door and Sam and Dean rush into the house bickering while they raid the kitchen. Sliding the bolt in place, a faint smile tugs at her lips when she sees Dean’s puffy cheeks filled with cereal. “Hungry?” she asks as he digs through the box. He chews and swallows before answering, “Starving,” twisting out of reach when Sam tries to grab the box from him. She sets her bag down on the counter and hears John walk down the stairs.

Walking into the kitchen, John orders, “Dean, don’t spoil your appetite,” reaching for the refrigerator door. Still debating whether to tell John about Cyrus, she asks, “Are we going out to dinner?” in an innocuous tone. After seeing her stepbrother in the parking lot, she is certain he was outside of the Chinese restaurant last night.

John grabs a bottle of water and twists the top off. “No. I went to the store. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind cooking tonight. Sorry, I should have asked you. I know you are probably catching up,” he apologizes.

Relieved she insists, “No, no. It’s okay,” watching him take a long sip. “I just don’t feel like going out,” she adds still on edge. Grabbing two cereal bowls and a couple of spoons, Aella sets them on the table giving Dean a purposeful look before pointing to the chair. When John wraps his arms loosely around her waist she is surprised by the affectionate display. Although not always successful, she has always tried to keep her hands off John around the boys, worried about adding to their already unusual childhood.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully releasing her after kissing the side of her head. Unfazed by the gesture, Dean pours cereal into his bowl before handing the box to Sam. John grabs a carton of milk from the refrigerator and sets it on the table exchanging it for the box of cereal. He puts it back in the pantry and asks Sam and Dean about school.

Grabbing her bag, Aella leaves them talking in the kitchen focused on changing out of her uniform. Pausing on the stairs, she listens to Sam and Dean tell John about their day and decides not to tell John about Cyrus. Uncomfortable keeping things from him, she walks up the stairs with heavy steps.

Aella sits on the couch reading while John cleans the kitchen. She is amazed at how much dinner Sam and Dean managed to eat considering her stomach is in knots. Her eyes scan over a dense passage before the words _angel_ and _trap_ jump out from the page. Her breath stills and she glances over at John watching him dry a plate. Not even a paragraph, on page five hundred and twenty four she finds the answer she has been looking for.

_The Enochian runes in the figure below will trap an angel and prevent them from using their powers._

Closing the book, her blood pumps loudly in her ears. In a daze, she jumps when her cell phone vibrates next to her. Picking it up, she stares at the message.

Cyrus: So you will spread your legs for some asshole twice your age but my friends aren’t good enough?

Disgusted at the memory of Cyrus leading her to the back of the armory to whore her out to his friends, she tosses the phone across the room. Her stomach rolls and she is grateful she barely ate.


	60. Chapter 60

_She stands on a dark bridge overlooking the white peaks of churning river water. The darkness is ominous, the hour when rays of golden sunshine have long disappeared and pink traces of dawn have yet to emerge. Bright headlights temporarily blind her and all she can hear is the slam of a car door and muffled voices. Without warning, a ripping sensation tears through her upper body and brings her to her knees. She cries out feeling her chest crack leaving her gasping for air. She clutches her torso desperate to keep herself whole but the separation is complete and she sobs at the loss of something she never even knew was there._

“Aella! Aella!” John shouts watching tears run down her face. She opens her eyes and gasps in pain. He pulls her into his lap, her body rigid arms still glued to her chest. With choking sobs, she repeats, “No,” and he rocks her slowly wondering what the hell just happened. Minutes pass before she is pulled from her dream and hiccups replace her cries. “It’s okay,” he assures and she shifts in his lap and wipes her eyes.

A soft knock sounds at the door and he is reluctant to let her go. Setting her gently back on the bed with a pillow behind her back, he answers the door. “Dad, what’s wrong?” Dean asks, Sam at his side.

“It was just a nightmare,” John explains. Sam pales and he adds, “It is okay. Everything is okay. Go back to bed. I will be there soon,” patting his shoulder. He turns and finds the bed empty.  The door to the bathroom is closed, but light shines through the crack.

“Aella?” John asks knocking on the door before testing the handle.

Aella shudders hunched over the bathroom sink as John calls her name. Her body spasms and she forces herself to get a grip. She splashes water on her face and opens the door coming face to face with his worried expression.

“Sorry,” she apologizes rummaging through the dresser drawer after ducking under his arm. She slides off the wet t-shirt jamming John’s oversized shirt over her head.

“What the fuck was that?” John asks.

“Nightmare,” she responds.

“Was it the crypt?” he asks confused.

Clearing her throat, she answers, “No,” pulling on a pair of John’s boxers and her gray hoodie.

“I am going to go check on Sam,” she says breezing passed him.

John grabs her arm, “Aella,” he rebukes.

“I am fine,” she says slipping from his grip.

Knocking lightly on Sam’s door she turns the nob and finds Dean standing next to Sam’s bed. “Hey,” she says faintly her eyes softening at the sight. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed pulling the covers around him.

She squeezes Dean’s hand and he asks, “You okay?” in a genuine tone.

“I am okay now,” she says grateful she is awake. He squeezes her hand back before leaving her and Sam. “Sorry if I scared you,” she reassures trying to put him at ease. 

“It’s okay. Sometimes it is better when you aren’t alone,” he explains. 

“Yeah it is,” she smiles sadly thinking of the nights she woke up alone and terrified in the apartment more often than not praying Cyrus wasn’t home. She feels guilty for abruptly leaving John. “Get some rest. I will drive you and Dean to school tomorrow,” she states brushing the hair from his forehead before leaving the room.

She walks down the hall and closes the door quietly behind her. John is remaking the bed and she can see the faint tick in his jaw. “I am sorry,” she apologizes staring at him from across the bed. He tosses the pillow he is holding onto the bed and turns towards her.

“Waking up next to someone after a nightmare is still new for me,” she says in a serious tone gazing up at him.

His dark eyes soften when he sees her somber expression. Kneeling on the bed she crawls over to him and he fists her hair roughly, kissing her lips and sliding his tongue into her warm mouth. She grips his shirt; his bruising kiss delicious in its realness.


	61. Chapter 61

Cyrus: I have something you might be interested in 

Cyrus: I know that fat bitch from CPS would be

Aella: What are you talking about?

Cyrus: Meet me at railroad tracks over the bridge

Aella: No

Cyrus: I am not fucking around. Meet me or your happy little family goes bye

Aella: Fine 

Aella slides her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and hands Dean the plate she was rinsing before her phone vibrated. Submerging her arms into the soapy water, she washes another plate, camouflaging her shaking hands. Struggling to breathe, she feels like someone is strangling her, an invisible garrote pressed against her neck crushing her throat. The same portent feeling she experienced in Bobby’s study when she realized she had seen the key in the crypt in her nightmares. Staring vacantly at the backsplash John’s voice penetrates her haze. “You okay?” he asks taking the plate she has been holding out for Dean not realizing he is no longer there.

“I am fine,” she says quickly. Detecting a small window of opportunity, she backtracks, “Actually, I am not. Pastor Jim called me about a book. I think it might be useful. I am going to go get it tonight,” in a firm tone.

John frowns, “I could get it for you tomorrow,” he offers, resting his hand on her lower back.

Aella glances at him hesitantly, “No. I won’t be able sleep to sleep until I see it,” she insists. Quelling the hysteria mounting inside of her, she keeps her expression blank as she scans John face. Lying to him sends tiny fissures through her heart. Handing her a dish towel he agrees, Okay,” before she vigorously dries her hand. Taking over for her at the sink, he watches as she grabs the keys to the Impala off the table. “I’ll be back,” she assures, her words lacking conviction. 

 _Red Light. Brake. Green Light. Gas. Stop Sign. Brake._  

Halfway there, she forces herself to focus on the mechanics of driving. Quickly shifting gears, she parks the car surprised to see other cars in the lot. Rushing to the entrance, she finds Pastor Jim greeting parishioners. “Aella,” he says not bothering to hide the surprise in his voice. 

“What are all these people doing here?” she asks watching men and women make small talk before entering the Church.

“Bible study,” he responds waving to a stranger across the vestibule. “Care to join?” he asks. Scanning the crowd, she answers, “Actually, I am here to borrow a book. I saw it in your office…” realizing the study group works to her advantage.  

“A book?” he interrupts. Checking his watch, he hesitates, “We are about to start,” holding his notes to his chest. 

“I remember the way to your office,” she suggests.

“Alright,” he agrees before making his way to the family room, a small area where parents with young children typically listen to mass. She watches him welcome everyone and gesture to the coffee and cookies on the foldout table, before walking towards his office. Grabbing the first book she sees, she locks the door behind her and when she sees Pastor Jim bow his head over a thick bible, slips out of the church. Aella sprints to her car tossing the book on the front seat before peeling out of the parking lot.

With uneven breaths, she turns her lights off and parks next to the bridge that extends over the river, a narrow walkway parallel to the railroad tracks. She slams the door to her car closed, anxiety roiling inside of her. Glancing at the river, she walks towards the figure standing in the middle of the bridge recognizing Cyrus’ lanky frame hunched over the meager guardrail. With her hands jammed into her hoodie, she wishes she had remembered a coat. “What do you want?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper over the sound of water churning.

Cyrus turns towards her, “Straight to the point? What no foreplay?” he mocks. 

“You are disgusting,” she responds. 

“That’s what they are going to say about old John when I show these pictures to CPS,” he says pulling a handful of photos from his jacket.   

With a furrowed brow, she questions, “What are you talking about?” trying to see through the darkness. 

“The two of you arguing in the driveway. You with a bloody lip beat to shit. That stupid looking kid in a sling,” he lists.

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” she says defensively.

“Probably not,” Cyrus admits, “But CPS will have to investigate,” he explains.

“And why would they believe you?” she spits viciously.

Chuckling he shakes his head, “After I tell them how worried I am about my baby sister shacking up with an older man who hits her. Some creep who beats on little kids and does who knows what else to them at night,” he says in a voice dripping concern.

“Stop it!” she shouts.

“Three thousand dollars,” Cyrus states.   

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” she asks.

“Three thousand dollars and these photos are yours. What your sugar daddy isn’t good for it?” he taunts.

“Give me those photos,” Aella orders.

“No,” Cyrus asserts. 

“Cyrus. Give me those fucking pictures,” she threatens.

“I might even toss in a sob story about how you tried to leave only to reappear days later looking worse for it. Or the priest! Those are all the rage these day," he laughs. 

Aella lunges for the photos pushing Cyrus' back against the railing. She stretches her fingers towards the pictures, but his arms are too long. She clenches her jaw watching him smile. Propelling herself to the photos, she snatches them from his grasp. “Come on little sister. You know I am never going to stop,” he sneers. 

Aella’s heart pounds in her chest as anger courses through her. “You weren’t always like this,” she cries. 

“No! I wasn’t. This is your fault, you and your slut mom. And I am never going to stop. Not until I fucking get what I deserve,” he shouts.

With an eerie calm, she slowly walks towards him. Just yards away, she pushes his chest with all her strength and when he reaches his hand out grasping nothing but air, she stands and watches him plummet into the water.  


	62. Chapter 62

Cyrus’ body hits the water with a sickening smack and she watches as his limbs jut out at unnatural angles. The current swirls and his body bobs up and down before sinking out of sight. Shaking, she collapses onto the rickety bridge. Grabbing the rusty frame, the deafening river mutes her screams. The ripping sensation from her nightmares tears through her and she is horrified as she feels her chest crack into two. Trembling from the sharp pain, she gasps her cries turning into sobs. Memories of a young Cyrus shutter through her mind and she convulses realizing she killed her stepbrother. Agony sears through her body incapacitating her. Minutes pass before she dully realizes her face is pressed against the corroded grating. Pushing herself to her feet, she stares out at the churning peaks of the water. Her phone vibrates and she slowly pulls it out scanning the message. 

John: Everything okay?

Her fingers sluggishly fumble over the keypad as she types.

Aella: On my way home.

It is just before midnight when she soundlessly slips into the house. Tiptoeing into the bedroom, she finds John reading in bed. Grateful for the dim light, she quickly turns her back to him and starts to undress for bed. From over her shoulder, she hears, “I thought you would be home sooner,” his voice firm.

“I got distracted,” Aella responds.

“Pastor Jim said he didn’t see you leave,” he says questioningly.

Clearing her throat, she explains, “He seemed busy with bible study. I didn’t want to bother him,” in a neutral tone. With John’s waffle knit Henley over her camisole she walks to the bathroom and grabs her toothbrush. Closing the door slightly, she stares at her swollen eyelids while gripping the sink with shaking hands.  

Sunlight streams through the window and Aella winces as Sam shouts, “Aella! Aella” before jumping on the bed. She sits up, squinting at John’s side of the bed finding it empty. With one eye open she asks “Hey Sammy. What’s up?” observing his excited expression. 

“Dean and I are going to the aquarium today!” he answers enthusiastically. Sinking back down on the bed she questions, “You are?” tossing her arm over her head to keep the sun from blinding her.

Crestfallen, he responds, “You didn’t remember,” staring at her.

Rubbing her eyes she apologizes, “I did forget. I am sorry. You are going to have a great time though,” she encourages. His eager expression makes her smile sadly as she realizes how much she cares about him.

Without warning, John walks into the room, “Sammy go finish getting ready,” he orders.

“Morning,” Aella greets. “Aquarium? On a Saturday?” she inquires.

“School trip,” John answers. 

“You are letting them go?” she asks before pressing her lips together. John has never given her reason to question his parenting, but Cyrus’ accusations have her on edge. 

“Dean will watch over Sam. Besides, you and I have an errand to run. I am going to drop them off. I will be back soon,” he says setting down the fresh coffee cup he is holding next to her. With her eyes closed, she hears him leave the room wishing she could stay in bed all day.

Twenty minutes later, Aella is slipping her knee high rain boots on after buttoning her denim-cuffed shorts. Drawing her gray hoodie over her head she pulls her hair back into a high ponytail. “Ready?” John’s voice asks.

Grabbing her phone, she answers, “Yeah,” before following him downstairs. Buckling her seatbelt she asks, “Where are we going?” glancing at the cloudy sky.

John rests his arm over the bench and looks out the rear windshield, “We are going to buy a gun,” he explains as he reverses out of the driveway. Sparing her a glance, he continues, “You don’t seem surprised,” before returning his eyes to the road.

“You own a gun. A shotgun,” she clarifies.

“I have been looking for this gun for seven years. It was made by Samuel Colt and legend is it can kill anything,” John acknowledges.

“Anything?” Aella asks.

“Anything. A pawnshop owner out of Saint Paul swears he has it. He wants a thousand dollars for it,” John says nodding to the glove box.

Aella unlatches the glove compartment and finds an envelope stuffed with twenty-dollar bills. “You are worried they are going to shoot you and take the money,” she states. 

“I can’t exactly bring Pastor Jim and Bobby is still in Sioux Falls,” John explains.

“Nice to know I am your first choice,” Aella says sarcastically with a faint smile.

John glances at her with a smirk on his lips. He opens his mouth, but before he can respond the car veers slightly off the road and he pulls his gaze away from her and corrects the steering wheel. He shakes his head chuckling before taking a sip of coffee as they pass a sign that reads Saint Paul 130 miles.

 


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter because my sister is in town!

Aella and John pull over just after mile marker twenty-three. Reaching into the glove compartment, Aella pulls out the padded envelope tucking it into her waistband. They wait in silence until a black pickup truck pulls over parking behind them. John nods and Aella opens the car door, slowly slipping out of the passenger seat.  John stands in front of the back of the Impala with his arms casually draped to his side. “Roscoe, I assume?” he asks. Leaning against the trunk with a detached expression, Aella surveys the man standing in front of them. In a plaid button down shirt and red baseball cap he nods, “Who is this?” pointing towards Aella.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s with me,” John answers in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “Let’s see it,” he prompts.

Aella tenses slightly when Roscoe pulls out an antique pistol from his waistband. “No bullets,” he confirms spinning the cylinder displaying the empty chamber and weathered handle. Aella watches him deliberately as he tosses the gun to John. From the corner of her eye, she can see John inspecting the weapon. Within seconds, he tosses it back to Roscoe after saying, “It’s not it,” angrily.

“What are you talking about?” Roscoe asks defensively.

“Your Latin is wrong,” John insists.

Aella’s heart pounds in her chest when she hears Roscoe laugh.

Roscoe taunts, “You are good,” before tucking the gun into his waistband. 

“I promise you this one is loaded,” he says at the exact moment he draws a black semi-automatic pistol.

“The money,” he orders pointing the gun at John.

“Fuck,” John swears.

Scanning Aella from head to toe, Roscoe instead aims at her chest. “The fucking money,” he urges. 

“You are going to want to stop pointing that gun at me,” Aella threatens. 

Roscoe’s eyes brighten, “I like a bitch with a mouth on her,” he says. “Makes it that much better when her mouth is wrapped around my cock,” he taunts taking a step towards her. Barely a foot away from her, she suddenly pushes the barrel of the gun away with her left hand and locks her outstretched palm underneath the joint of his wrist before twisting the gun away from him. Without taking her eyes off of him, she passes the gun to John. 

“Back the fuck off,” John orders aiming at his head. Roscoe puts his hands in the air and takes a step backwards. “Slowly get in your car and leave,” John seethes. Roscoe gradually retreats to his truck. The driver door slams and gravel shoots out from behind the wheel as Roscoe darts onto the highway. 

With a deep sigh, John lowers his gun once Roscoe is out of sight. Setting the gun on the Impala, John lifts Aella onto the car. “God damnit baby girl you are going to give me a fucking heart attack,” he growls cupping her jaw. Her heartbeat flutters. Dragging her hips to the edge of the car, she wraps her legs around his waist and his mouth roughly covers hers. Clutching his shirt, she pulls him closer and he leans her back against the car, steadying her as she moans into his mouth. When his hand wraps around her throat and he applies slight pressure she arches against him quivering. “I am going to fuck that pretty little pussy as soon as we get home,” he whispers his deep voice vibrating against her ear.  Aella sits on the hood breathless before John slides her off the car and grabs the gun, walking to the driver’s side door.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000% smut

The drive is tense and silent.  John clenches his jaw, speeding down the highway, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. Fascinated with his profile, she drags her fingertip down his neck to the collar of his shirt. “Aella,” John warns. Her lips ghost over the shell of his ear, her breath fluttering against his skin. Glancing at the open road, she tucks herself against his side and wets her lips before pressing her mouth against his neck. Sucking softly, she nibbles then drags her tongue over his bruised skin. Running his fingers through her hair, he roughly fists her thick tresses. Guiding the Impala into the driveway, he shifts gears before grabbing her hand and dragging her into the empty house.

Unlocking the door, he leads her inside and pushes her back against the door. She wraps her arms around his neck as John cups her ass and carries her up the stairs. Her body pressed against his chest, his hot tongue swirls in her mouth claiming her lips. He walks into the bedroom and sets her on his feet. “Babygirl,” he rasps dragging the word from his throat. Sliding his hands under her shirt, he pulls the material over her head and she is left standing in her bra. Divesting her of that too, he cups her tits, the tops swelling over the palms of his hands; perfectly round and perky with rosy pink nipples.

He walks her backwards towards the bed and her hands cling to his shirt as the backs of her knees hit the edge. Lowering her on to the bed, he unbuttons her shorts and dips a finger into her sodden folds. “Such a fucking perfect wet little pussy,” he says after sucking his finger clean. He teases her wet entrance and orders, “Suck,” bringing his finger to her mouth. Greedily she wraps her lips around his finger, her cheeks hollowing as she tastes herself.  Lifting her hips, he pulls her jeans off and tosses them to the side. He drags her underwear down her long tan legs. Unexpectedly, he licks the broad stripe of her slit, savoring her wetness, his hot breath fanning over her core. Aella’s heart rate quickens and a new surge of wetness pools between her legs. He eases her thighs further apart before pushing his tongue into her hole. Her sweetness spills into his mouth and he pushes his face further between her legs feasting while her hands fly to his strong shoulders. Gripping his shoulders tightly, his nose brushes against her clit and she cries out clenching around his tongue.

He growls into her pussy and the vibrations shoot straight through her. White-hot release floods her glistening on his lips and chin as she whimpers and bucks up into his mouth while he pins her to the bed.  He pulls away from her and stands at the edge of the bed, shedding his shirt as he drags his gaze over her flushed body watching her writhe on the bed.

Her chest heaves while he quickly unbuckles his pants. Covering his body with hers, he whispers, “You are such a greedy girl,” tugging her hair and biting her neck. “John,” she pleads the surmounting need pulsating between her legs. He runs the tip of his fat cock through her wet folds, sliding into her inch by inch. His eyes snap to her face when she grimaces feeling painfully stretched. The sharp discomfort becomes a dull unbearable ache. “Aella,” he growls noticing the way her eyes are tightly closed. Trying not to fall apart, her walls spasm around him and she convulses. “You are a…” John begins. “You need to move,” she orders his hips pinning her down to the bed. Frantic, she begs, “John...” shaking her head side-to-side beginning to panic. Pressing his mouth roughly against her lips, he begins to slowly thrust and soon her cunt is mewling in pleasure. Now knowing this is her first time, his thumb rubs her clit while his mouth keeps her breathless. Pleasure courses through her, each short gasp spurring him on. Soon he is slamming into her throbbing pussy, her tits bouncing and an animalistic growl forming in his throat.

She arches into his chest as his hand roams teasing her sensitive nipples before gripping her hips. Her thighs shake as he pumps inside of her bringing her to a powerful orgasm. Tightening around him, she squirts as cum shoots from his tip deep inside of her. “Kitten,” John groans. As their highs wear off he pulls out, lying on his back breathing heavily. Soaked and shaking, Aella lays in bed feeling the pulsing tenderness between her sore legs.

“Shower,” he instructs reaching for her hand. With pink swollen lips and a heavy lidded gaze, she protests “I can’t move..”  her legs numb from the orgasm that ripped through her. John pulls her into his arms and carries her into the bathroom. Sitting her on the counter, he turns on the shower and steam quickly fills the bathroom. Helping her into the shower, droplets of hot water run down her chest as John wraps his arms around her kissing her neck. Eventually John reaches for a bar of soap and washes her arms neck and back, dragging his hands down her hips and between her throbbing legs. He holds her steady in the shower and she closes her eyes savoring the feel of his silky chest hair against her back as streams of water and soap run down her body.


	65. Chapter 65

John watches Aella rummage through the dresser. Her bronze skin is flushed and damp strands of honey colored hair hang down her back. John scans her hourglass figure and the finger shaped bruises on her hips and thighs. She slides on a fresh pair of panties, her plump ass immediately swallowing the fabric of her thong.

Sensing his gaze, she turns holding a t-shirt in her hand. Interrupting, she says, “You are staring,” as he pulls his eyes away from her round tits and looks at her face. Dark eyelashes frame her light blue eyes and his dick stiffens. She notices his conflicted expression and slips the white t-shirt over her head. The fabric strains against her pert nipples. He is still caught in a daze as she pulls on her shorts. Buttoning them, she wonders whether he is realizing she is no longer a virgin. Although she never really told him, he never really asked, she rationalizes to herself.

Sex with John was all consuming. Relentless, he would alternate between gentle caresses and teasing strokes before spreading her thighs and devouring her, pinning her to his mouth. When he drove into her with powerful thrusts, her thighs shook and tits bounced. She eventually lost count how many times she climaxed before drenching him and soaking the bed. Despite being incredibly tender, just thinking about it makes her want him again, straddling him and rolling her hips while setting the pace. Sex with John was better than she imagined and she was worried if he started thinking about it too much, he might overreact.

“Hey,” Aella whispers suddenly standing in front of him. “You okay?” she asks gently resting her hand on his chest. On tiptoes, she brushes her lips softly against his. “We have to go pick up Sam and Dean,” she insists softly. Grabbing her hoodie, she pulls on his hand giving him a smile, hoping he can get out of his own head.

John’s trance slowly fades as he drives to the aquarium. He parks the car and they walk towards the entrance immediately spotting Sam and Dean. “How was it?” Aella asks Sam excitedly while John navigates between parents and kids trying to find a teacher.  

“It was awesome!” Sam shouts detailing their excursion and even Dean chimes in adding details Sam skips over. Aella smiles, frowning only when she notices John’s stern expression as he walks back towards them. 

“What’s wrong?” she immediately asks.

“Some of the parents are saying a body washed up down river this morning,” he whispers to her.

Her eyes widen and John guides Sam and Dean out of the building.

“Come on. Let’s go,” he urges as they quickly leave. 

Turning the key in the ignition, John asks, “Who’s hungry?” and receives an enthusiastic response from both Sam and Dean. Minutes later, they are tucked in a booth at the diner they ate at just after Aella’s birthday months earlier. The boys ask if they can pick a song from the jukebox and after they order, Aella accompanies them to the back of the restaurant. Leaning against the counter, Aella watches Sam and Dean stand in front of the jukebox, startled when a young man in a varsity jacket approaches her. 

“Hey, you’re Aella, right?” the stranger asks. He is tall with dark red hair parted and combed to the side.  A thin gray t-shirt stretches over his chest and she notices the football patch on his jacket.

“I am,” she answers.

“I am Archie,” he responds with a smile. It is boyish and an amused smile tugs at her lips. “I am in your History class. You were out for a while and I just wanted to offer you my notes. You know, if you need to catch up,” he volunteers.

“Thank you,” she says, glancing around him, checking on Sam and Dean.

“Oh, are those your brother?” he asks gesturing to the boys.

Dean saves her from responding when he interrupts, “Hey! Nice jacket,” in awe of the football and wrestling patches and “C” for captain. 

“We should go eat,” Aella says. Guiding Sam and Dean back to the table, she realizes Archie is following them, still engaged in conversation with Dean. She presses her lips to keep from laughing when she sees John’s reaction to the newcomer. 

Sam and Dean slide into the booth and Archie finally says, “It was nice to meet you. Let me know if you want to borrow my notes. I am happy to make you a copy,” nodding to John before leaving.

Aella takes a sip of her water half listening as Sam and Dean begin talking about the local high school football team. “I think that boy might be interested in giving you more than just his notes,” John whispers in her ear.

Biting her lip, she sarcastically answers, “You think?” taking another sip of water. John rubs his thumb over the base of her neck and she stares at him with hungry eyes. “Well you are right about one thing,” she continues, “He is very much a boy,” she says imagining herself riding John being the one to finally tease him.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut.

John drives home from dinner speculating about the body pulled from the river. He reminds himself Pastor Jim is also monitoring the police scanner. That was the problem with the Devil’s Gate: ever since Bobby discovered it, it had been too damn quiet. John assumed he would notice when the door to Hell opened. He expected an earthquake or thunderstorm. Something. He accepted blood might not start raining from the sky, but _virtue stolen from the innocent_ was certainly going to feel very momentous to someone. Wishing he had the Colt, he is determined to keep looking, to keep fighting, to try and keep what’s his, whatever the cost.

Glancing at Aella, he tunes back into the conversation happening around him. “Our final project is a report on one of the mammals we saw today,” Sam explains. “I think I am going to pick the blue whale,” he adds as they pull into the driveway.  John unlocks the door and drops his keys on the side table.  “I am going to give Pastor Jim a call,” he tells Aella and her heart skips beat when she realizes he is curious about the body.

“Okay,” she says hesitantly.

“I’ll be right up,” he assures stroking her cheek. 

Aella walks up the stairs and kicks her shoes off, pulling her hoodie over her head. Her stomach is in knots, but she realizes she needs to know whether they have identified Cyrus’ body. She changes into her camisole after sliding her shorts off and tossing her shirt to the side. Draping one of John’s plaid shirts over her bralette, she walks to the bathroom and brushes her teeth. John walks into the room and finds Aella delicately wiping her mouth. 

“Pastor Jim didn’t answer,” he explains, eyes scanning her long legs, the flare of her hips and scrap of lace covering her tits. 

Crossing the room, she slowly pulls his black sweater over his head and runs her fingers over his chest. Her mouth meets his and she kisses him softly, her chest lightly brushing against his. He cradles her face while she unbuckles his pants pushing them passed his hips. His plaid shirt falls off her shoulders when she reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard dick. She rubs a bead of precum over his head before wrapping her hand around his shaft and pumping. John kicks his shoes off when she kneels in front of him, sliding his plaid button down off and helping him out of his pants. Licking her lips, she takes his cock into her mouth, bobbing while mewling in pleasure. 

“Daddy,” she moans before slipping her fingers into her panties. He groans, fisting her hair while watching her touch herself as she takes him in her mouth her, lips pursed around his dick. She swirls the tip of his head in her mouth sucking him with a loud pop before standing. Taking his hand, she leads him to the bed. He sits and tries to pull her into his lap, but she lightly pushes his chest and he instead fists his glistening dick watching while she slips out of her underwear. 

Sitting in his lap, he removes her bralette and takes a rosy bud into his mouth. She arches, her hair dancing down her back, as his arm wraps around her waist tightly, the other massaging her round breast while sucking hard. “John,” she gasps raking her fingers through his hair. Tugging his hair, her lips crash against his as he holds her flush against his chest and feels her wet core. Lining his erection up with her soaking entrance, she guides his hard cock into her. “So fucking tight,” he groans. He is thick and hard, fully seated inside of her stretching and filling her. When she rolls her hips, she feels a rush of heat between her legs. She repeats the motion watching him try to maintain his self-control. Riding him harder, he clenches his jaw as she coats him with every trip in and out. She steadies her hands on his shoulders, her tits beginning to bounce when she moves faster, his moans sending tremors through her. His fingers dig into her hips and she gasps. John adjusts his hips and she sinks deeper onto his cock. Chasing her release, she reaches down and roughly plays with her clit.

“Daddy,” Aella purrs in his ear as his hips snap and her walls clench around his twitching cock. His warm cum spurts coating her quaking walls and she tightens around him milking him. “Such a good girl,” he praises and her orgasm flutters. “Such a good fucking girl,” he repeats, emphasizing every word with a powerful thrust. He is so incredibly deep, she grips his shoulders just before his hand clamps over her mouth silencing her scream as she climaxes. Still wet with her juices, he unseats her from his dick, her forehead resting against his as she gasps coming down from her high.


	67. Chapter 67

The dispatcher’s voice crackles over the police scanner as John sits at the kitchen table pouring over every newspaper in the tri-county. He takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee and sighs remembering Sam, Aella and Dean making waffles in the kitchen just yesterday.

_“He is probably busy, John. It is Sunday,” Aella admonishes standing in the kitchen in her bare feet watching the waffle maker, Sam glued to her side._

_John’s plaid button down engulfs her curves and although she rolled up the sleeves and tucked it into her denim shorts it has become untucked making it seem as if she is wearing nothing underneath. With her hair pulled back in a high ponytail she stands next to Sam leaning down to check the light on the appliance. John slides his phone into his back pocket deciding to try Pastor Jim in a few hours when Sunday service is over._

_“So you just wait till it beeps?” Sam inquires._

_“You got it,” Aella says with a smile glancing back at Dean who is pulling syrup and butter from the refrigerator. Having finally eaten their fill of pancakes, Aella agreed to show them how to make waffles. A soft beeping fills the kitchen and Aella lifts the handle revealing a golden brown waffle. Carefully removing it with a fork she places it on a plate before pouring more batter into the grooves._

_“Don’t forget the strawberries,” she reminds Dean who rolls his eyes as he grabs a container of strawberries from the fridge._

_“Thank you,” she says sweetly, setting a cutting board on the counter, quickly dicing a few strawberries and scooping them up into a bowl. Observing her slow deliberate movements, John wonders if she is still sore._

_“Everything okay?” she asks while wiping her hands on a dishtowel. John gently cups her chin and tilts her mouth towards his, placing a warm kiss on her lips. It is the wordless response to a question they both know the answer to. Everything is not okay. Seeing her with Sam and Dean reminds him how easily his newfound happiness can be ripped away from him, from all of them, and he will do whatever it takes to hang on to what he has found._

_John is pulled from his melancholy thoughts by the buzz of his cell phone. “It’s Pastor Jim,” he says stepping out of the kitchen. Aella’s gaze returns to the waffle maker. Panic settles over her and she finds it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. The suffocating sensation overwhelms her and it is only Sam and Dean’s presence that forces her to remain standing, frozen in fear. John tried Pastor Jim all morning determined to learn the identity of the body pulled from the river. Overhearing a short muffled conversation, John returns and her wide eyes find his._

_“Aella, can you come here a second?” John asks._

_Aella places her hand on top of Sam’s shoulders giving the top of his head a kiss. “I will be right back,” she tells Dean over her shoulder. “Watch your brother,” she adds with a lurch of her stomach._

_John leans against the arm of the couch with his eyes glued to the floor. “Aella...” he begins uncertainly, “the body they pulled from the river was Cyrus. Police think it was a suicide,” he explains. Guilt floods through her body as well as the sickening realization she is relieved._

_Astounded she answers, “Suicide?” convinced moments ago John was about to interrogate her about her brother’s death._

_“It is no secret your brother had a drinking problem. The bridge over the river was one of his favorite haunts. They think he fell over. Other tire marks were found but it’s a popular area for teens. The police are also considering it could have been a rival gang, but your brother was never fully initiated,” John continues._

_Aella’s hands begin to shake and goosebumps break out along her skin. “I am sorry,” John says before pulling her into his arms. Her knees wobble and he is practically holding her up. With her face buried in his chest, he can’t see the tears of happiness pouring from her eyes or the conflicting warring inside of her. She is guilty. Now matter how much he deserved it, she murdered her brother and there is a part of her broken and lost forever._

_What felt like an eternity passed by before Aella composed herself. Wiping her eyes she clears her throat and dons a weak smile before returning to the kitchen just as the waffle maker begins to beep._

A soft rustling pulls John from his memories and he stands towering just slightly over Castiel. “Cas,” he greets in an urgent tone. “What is it?” he demands.

“The gate has been opened,” Castiel responds almost breathlessly.

“Who?” John questions. Everything suddenly feels too fast. The moment they have been waiting for has finally arrived and yet he would trade it for another hour of ignorant bliss.

“Someone from this town. I can feel it,” Cas says vaguely tilting his head to the side as if teasing the name from his brain.

“Damnit, Cas! Who?” John roars.

“I don’t know!” Castiel shouts. “I can’t tell,” he says and John notices for the first time the angel doesn’t seem in control of his emotions. “Have there been any acts of violence?” he questions. 

“A suicide. Maybe gang related. I doubt if it was it would constitute the loss of innocence,” John explains. “Pastor Jim and I have been taking shifts listening to the police scanner. He is in touch with all the hospitals and crisis hotlines. No assaults have been reported. Damnit,” John curses. “Do you at least know when it happened?” John questions. 

“Sometimes between Friday night and Saturday. The angels gathered Saturday afternoon,” Cas informs him. A seed of doubt takes root in John’s brain. “Could this ‘loss of innocence’ take form in someone having sex for the first time? Would that be enough to open the door?” John questions hesitantly ignoring the awkwardness of the question.

“The Bible considers pre-martial relations a sin, however the punishment for the loss of a woman’s virtue has historically fallen on the woman herself. A stance I have never really understood as one cannot copulate with themselves,” Castiel rambles.

“I guess it’s possible given the circumstances. Why? Why do ask?” Castiel asks.

“It was me,” John admits. “Aella and I ...” he begins.

“No. She is a nobody. Even taking her virginity wouldn't have been such a momentous act as to open the door to Hell. It doesn’t make sense,” Castiel reproaches.

Suddenly Castiel turns his head. “I need to go. You have less than 36 hours. I will try and contact you again,” he assures before vanishing. John sits at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. With a sigh he accepts he is the stupid son of a bitch who opened the door to hell. Hurling his coffee mug at the wall, he reaches for his cell phone finding Bobby’s number.


	68. Chapter 68

Aella, Sam and Dean are in the middle of a conversation when they walk into the house. Sam laughs at a joke Dean made while Aella rolls her eyes. She locks the door before turning and finding John in the living room, duffel bag in hand. He removes a photograph from a picture frame and sticks it between the pages of a book before snapping it shut and shoving it into the canvas bag. Struggling to conceal the anxiety bubbling inside of her, she asks, “John what is it?” in an even tone.

“The gate has been opened,” he says repeating the words Cas uttered barely an hour ago. Cold dread floods Aella and although the ramifications of the statement are lost on Sam and Dean their fear is palpable. Taking control of her emotions, she reminds herself she knew this moment was coming. They were always running on borrowed time. “Who was it?” she questions. 

“Some stupid son of a bitch,” John growls shoving another book into the bag. Purposefully vague, he says “Bobby is going to meet us at the Devil’s Gate,” before turning to Dean. “Dean go get the shotgun from the front closet and put it in your bag,” he orders. Seconds pass before Dean moves, uncharacteristically sluggish in following his dad’s orders. Glancing around the disorderly living room, she asks, “What can I do?” while staring at John. 

“Nothing. You are staying here,” he responds curtly.

With her hands on her hips she responds, “Excuse me? The hell I am,” infuriated at the thought of being left behind. Despite the consequences of their actions, John wants nothing more than for her to join him and the pain in his chest is almost unbearable when he says, “It is too dangerous. You are staying here,” avoiding her piercing gaze.  

“Sammy, go to your room,” Aella orders, “Dean, you too,” she adds, eyes blazing. Watching them follow her orders without hesitation he shouts, “You don’t get to order them around,” knowing there is no other woman on earth who loves those boys more than she does.

It is a cruel joke that John considers her a woman, when she is dressed like a schoolgirl, but John knows what she has seen and what she has done has changed her forever. In the midst of his thoughts, Aella counters, “And you don’t get to fuck me and then treat me like a child. You don’t get to make decisions for me and before you start, I was mixed up in all of this long before I walked into this house,” as if reading his mind.

Close to breaking, he repeats, “I told you it is too dangerous,” his voice lacking the conviction he exhibited earlier. 

“Then tell me why you are dragging Sam and Dean along? Or are you really suggesting you can teach a twelve year old to fire a shotgun, but you can’t show me?” she questions. Silence hangs in the air and he debates telling her Sam and Dean aren’t coming with him. Instead, he is leaving them with Bill and Ellen Harvelle and needs her to stay in hopes that she will raise his boys after he is gone.

He reaches his tipping point when she says, “John, you leaving makes us both vulnerable. We are stronger together and you know it,” her voice suddenly soft and silky. John closes his eyes tightly reminding himself he is very much going to Hell. “You have one hour,” he relents, eyes still closed. Aella runs her fingers through his thick locks gently pulling him down towards her. With his forehead pressed against hers, she whispers, “I’m here for all of it, John. The good, the bad. We make our own future,” inciting a dangerous hope in his chest. 

Aella only needed twenty minutes to pack. Deciding what to take was simple when she accepted that they would either be returning to Blue Earth or not. No longer dressed in her school uniform with a duffel slung over her shoulder, she walks into Sam’s room to check on their progress. Discovering Dean has spent the majority of his time helping his younger brother pack, she sends him to his room assuring him she will help Sam finish. The air is tense when the three of them return downstairs, a stark contrast to how they entered the house. John stands in front of the door waiting for them. “We are ready,” Aella says confidently. Grabbing the boys’ bags, he leads them outside and locks the front door behind them. 

“Pastor Jim will check on the house,” he informs her. She silently nods as they walk towards the black monster truck. She opens the passenger side door and says, “Dean, you’re in front,” gesturing for him to sit with John. After helping Sam into the back, John gives her a questioning glance. “There are things you need to say to him and there are things he needs to hear,” she says carefully, gently reminding John that although they are tough kids, they are still kids. Perpetually at war with himself, he tilts her head up with his index finger, kissing her warm mouth softly. With a content sigh, she pulls away from him and situates herself in the back with Sam pushing his hair from his face and giving him a reassuring smile.


	69. Chapter 69

John drives towards the interstate and soon low rolling hills replace cookie cutter houses. Sam makes himself comfortable in the back of the truck, resting his head on Aella’s leg before dozing off. The pink, orange and blue of the setting sun is tranquil and soon Aella struggles to keep her eyes open. Glancing back at Aella and Sam John begins, “Dean we need to talk,” in a low murmur. “You and Sam are going to be staying with Bill and Ellen. I need you to watch over Sam,” he says sternly.

“I always do,” Dean replies defensively and John takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at him.

“I know you do, Dean. I just … I don’t know when I will be back and I need you to be there for him,” John says his voice softer than it was seconds ago.

“I will. I promise,” Dean insists.

A sad smile flits across John’s face. “You are a good kid, Dean. I love you,” he tells him.

Seconds pass before Dean responds, “I love you too,” and John grimaces wishing they had shared more moments together.

Aella closes her eyes, suppressing the ache in her chest, but trusting they will be safe with John’s friends.

It is dark when John pulls to the side of the road thirty miles from Kadoka, South Dakota. “They are going to meet us here. We are a little early,” John explains. Aella quietly wakes Sam and as they step out of the car to stretch their legs, John catches Aella’s attention. “What is it?” she asks gently.

“Things between Ellen and I are rocky. It was a long time ago. Bill and I were hunting and things went south. We barely made it out alive and Ellen’s been blaming me ever since,” John recounts rubbing his face with an exasperated expression.  

Aella frowns glancing over at Sam and Dean. “I trust them with Sam and Dean,” John clarifies. “It seems the sins of the father don’t extend to my sons,” he says sarcastically.

Before Aella can respond a red pickup truck pulls up behind them. The sound of car doors slamming and gravel crunching lets her know it is time.

“Bill. Ellen,” John greets. Aella stands behind Sam and Dean, her hands resting on their shoulders. “Give me a minute, Aella,” he tells her and she nods crouching down to check the boys’ bags, making sure they haven’t left anything in the truck.

“You’re fussing,” Dean informs her when she tries to zip Sam’s jacket. She wipes her cold sweaty palms on her jeans. “I know … I just ..” Aella begins before Ellen interrupts her.

“Aella? A word?” she asks.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells Sam and Dean before crossing her arms over her chest and standing next to Ellen.

“He isn’t a good man,” she says judgmentally.

“I’m sorry, what?” Aella asks taken by surprise.

“When shit hits the fan he will look out for himself. He is selfish like that,” she says bitterly.

“Are you talking about John?” Aella questions, shocked Ellen would be so outwardly acrimonious.

“Those boys deserve better,” she says glancing at Sam Dean.

Losing all sense of reason, Aella takes a step closer to Ellen well within her personal space. “You are entitled to your own opinion, but if I find out you are tearing John down in front of his boys… you are going to wish the world had ended,” Aella threatens glaring at Ellen unflinchingly.

“Now I hope we can reach an understanding,” Aella says resolutely as if she were giving Ellen the option.

“Understood,” Ellen responds eyes narrowing. Fuming, Aella turns and walks back to the boys and Dean doesn’t say a word when she unzips their bag and checks it for a third time.


	70. Chapter 70

When John and Bill return, Aella knows it is time to say goodbye. Brushing Sam’s shaggy hair from his eyes, she insists, “Be good. Okay?” while fixing the collar of his jacket. “Listen to Dean and be good for Ellen,” she repeats nervously before crouching down and hugging him. Just as she is about to pull away, Sam wraps his arms around her neck and she stares at the starry sky before closing her eyes trying to memorize every second. “I love you, Sam,” she says softly, tears forming in her eyes. Clearing her throat, she stands and kisses the top of his head before stepping aside. John takes a knee, his hand on Sam’s shoulder while he offers a vague explanation of what is happening.   

Aella stands in front of Dean and the words _take care of your brother_ are on the tip of her tongue. Instead she says, “Take care of yourself, Dean,” staring sadly into his wide eyes. Without warning, he wraps his arms around her waist almost knocking her over before mumbling, “I love you,” into her jacket. She smiles faintly answering, “I know,” while rubbing his back. “Everything is going to be fine,” she soothes, a lie they both need to hear right now. She turns away while John says his goodbye, wiping away the trickle of tears slipping down her cheeks. Turning back around, she crosses her arms over her chest watching as Bill carries the boys' bags and Ellen leads them to the truck. Bags are tossed in the back, car doors slam, the engine revs and in seconds they are gone.

She watches John as he stares at the red pickup until it is out of sight. He keeps gazing out at the empty highway, seconds turning into minutes. Eventually he turns and walks back towards the truck. To Aella’s surprise, he asks, “What were you and Ellen talking about?” standing in front of her one hand on his hip, the other on the truck.

“Nothing,” Aella lies not wanting to tell him.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he states, “She tried to start shit didn’t she?” with a heavy sigh. Angry, Aella concedes, “She said you were selfish,” shaking her head in disbelief, outraged by the woman’s hostility. “I told her if I found out she was talking about you like that in front of Sam and Dean, she was going to wish the world ended,” Aella admits. In a hurried tone she awkwardly continues, “Ellen is never going to let it go. I mean Bill is her husband. I get it. If it were…” babbling as John closes the distance and gently cradles her face with his hands.

“I fucking love you,” he says solemnly before kissing her lips slowly. She grips his jacket, tilting her mouth up towards him wanting more. When he swirls his tongue in her mouth, her hands slide under his shirt stroking his warm skin. 

He was never going to tell her. When he realized his ticket was up he didn’t have much time to plan. Making arrangements with the Harvelle’s, calling Pastor Jim and getting in touch with Bobby had been priority. It was spineless, but he trusted Jim to deliver the news and explain his wishes. He wanted Aella to raise the boys and he knew Bobby and Jim would help her. He selfishly hoped he would be her first and her last, but she was so young, he didn’t want to burden her more than he already had, but somehow on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere the words slipped out. Despite knowing she deserved more, he couldn’t help himself. 

Losing all track of time, Aella rests her head against his chest and closes her eyes, so desperate to memorize every second, she doesn’t even realize she hasn’t told John she loves him too. Admiring her swollen mouth and tousled hair, he rubs his thumb over her lips, “We should go,” he relents. Aella nods and John helps her into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. Glancing at the empty backseat, he heads west, only 180 miles from Wyoming.


	71. Chapter 71

_Heavy clouds roll over the horizon as thunder crashes. In a haze, Aella scans the landscape, confused by the barren trees and dead grass. The terrain is a wasteland. Looking over her shoulder, she sees a massive tarnished bronzed door with an intricate ivy pattern. Seconds pass before Aella realizes the gate is not connected to a structure. Monstrous in size, it stands towering over her seemingly leading nowhere. When she finally pulls her sluggish gaze away from the door she notices her hands are slick. Rivulets of blood run down her arms before dripping down her fingertips. Her hand is wrapped around the knife she discovered in the crypt and she tosses it to the side. She can’t staunch the bleeding, her hands are too slippery and there is too much blood. Sinking to her knees, she brings her legs to her chest. Crimson smudges stain her clothes and lightening flashes in the sky as she hears John shout her name in the distance._  

“Aella!” John calls and with a violent shudder she wakes. Peeling his eyes away from the road, he asks, “What is it?” glancing at her with a concerned expression. She stammers, inspecting her forearms before responding, “I don’t know,” shaken by the vividness of the nightmare. He brings her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers pained that he can no longer offer her hollow assurances. “We are almost there,” he grimaces and Aella notices the inky black sky darkest just before the dawn.

Minutes pass in tense silence before John shifts gears and navigates the rocky terrain. Soon they are parked next to Bobby’s Chevelle and Aella is reaching for the door handle anxious to meet the poor son-of-a-bitch who opened the gate. The door slams closed and she squints her eyes, only seeing Rufus and Bobby in the distance.

In a stiff voice, John asks “Aella, can you come here a second?” from the driver’s side. Antsy to talk to Bobby and Rufus, she sighs impatiently before walking around the truck. With an odd expression, John immediately cups her face gently in his hands, “You deserve so much more than this and I know I should regret it, but I don’t. Not any of it,” he begins staring into her sky blue eyes.

“John,” she cuts in. 

“Please just listen…” he interrupts. “The house is in your name. Bobby and Pastor Jim will help you raise Sam and Dean,” John explains.

Alarm courses through Aella as she grips his wrist, “What are you talking about John?” she questions, searching his gaze and finding only the resolute determination to say goodbye. “Cas came to me and told me someone from Blue Earth opened the gate between Friday and Saturday night. It was me...” he discloses.

Aella closes her eyes recalling Cas’ words. _And it is written that the gateway will be opened when virtue is stolen from the innocent, left as broken and ruined as the door between Hell and Earth… for I have set before you an open door, which none shall shut barring the sacrifice of the guilty, the first and the last._

She shakes her head in denial, “It wasn’t you,” she insists wishing she had told John about Cyrus. The words are too little too late. “It wasn’t you, John,” she begins frantically. “Saturday night, I... I killed Cyrus. I pushed him off the bridge. It was me. You have to believe me,” she begs staring at him realizing none of the words she is saying are resonating with him. Struggling to make him understand, she squeezes his wrists, “John it wasn’t you. It was me,” she says forcefully.

His determined expression never wavers and when he shakes his head slightly, she knows he will never believe her. Desperate for someone to listen, she glances at Bobby and Rufus and it is in that second that John snaps a zip tie over her wrist and connects it to the tie already looped through the door handle. “John!” she screams. “John! What are you doing?” she shouts tugging at the tie shackling her left arm to the car. 

“You and Sam and Dean are everything to me. You are my family and I love you,” he says kissing her lips tenderly as if memorizing the imprint of her lips while she grips the front of his shirt. She clenches the fabric, knuckles white before John disentangles her fingers and trudges up the hill to meet Rufus and Bobby. Tears streaming down her face she cries, “John! It wasn’t you! You don’t have to do this!” tugging at the door handle plastic cutting into her skin.


	72. Chapter 72

Desperate to stop John, Aella tugs at the plastic cable around her wrist before scanning the craggy terrain and picking up a sharp rock. Slicing her hand open, she dips her fingers into the blood pooling in her palm and draws the sigil she used in Sioux Falls and another she has stared at dozens of times. “Castiel! You worthless angel! Get down here right now!” she seethes after tossing the bloody rock to the side.

With a disapproving tone, Castiel greets, “Aella,” scowling at her in his disheveled suit and trench coat.

“Cas! John thinks he opened the gate, but he didn’t. It was me. Get me out of here,” she orders.

“I don’t under—” Cas begins.

Exasperated she urges, “Castiel! Listen to what I am telling you. It was me. Look at me. Look inside of me. I killed my brother,” before glancing at John standing with Rufus and Bobby, no doubt saying his goodbyes. Castiel squints at her angling his head slightly. At her wits end, she shouts, “Castiel I swear to God if you don’t take me there right now, I will trap you here with me and you and I will watch the world burn together because right now I am the only person who can close that gate,” she rages pointing to the second sigil. Cas’ eyes narrow before he extends his hand placing it on her forehead.

Dizzy and nauseous, Aella and Cas are suddenly standing in front of John and Rufus as Bobby kneels down unlocking the box holding the dagger. Confused, John says “Cas?” with an incredulous tone just as Aella reaches into the chest and grabs the dagger. Aella’s heart pounds in her chest almost robbing her of breath. Staring at John with wide eyes, she confesses, “I love you,” the words ripped from her throat anguish tearing her apart. Turning to Cas, she orders, “Stop them,” grabbing the lapels of his jacket before jerking him towards the hunters.

Caught off balance, Castiel careens into the men while she runs towards the mausoleum, her arms and legs pumping furiously. In the act of closing the distance, she realizes the gate is the door from her nightmares and resolve spurs her forward. She flings the door open and the last thing she sees is Bobby shouting with his knee wedged in John’s back pinning him to the ground before iron groans and the door shuts.

Although she has been here before, she is still taken back when the inside of the mausoleum isn’t a dark tomb, but a desolate wilderness. Her hands begin to shake as she tries to recall Castiel’s prophecy, words she could recite verbatim just hours ago. She brings the blade to her forearm and blinks back tears. Now here, she realizes it was always going to come to this.

_The murder of her brother. The first and the last. The sacrifice of the guilty._

She trembles recalling the blood that poured from her mother’s arms when she sliced her veins open. Cutting into her brachial artery with alarming efficacy, Anna bled out within minutes. Bile rises in Aella’s throat as she slices her skin, feeling the warm blood run rivers down her arm. Lightheaded, she brings the knife to her other arm imparting a matching cut. Falling to her knees, she drops the knife as thunder rolls overhead. Her blood pools saturating the parched earth while she begins to lose consciousness. 

She closes her eyes, images of Sam, Dean and John shuttering through her mind when she feels the presence of two strangers. A middle-aged man with a beard and messy hair stands in front of her. Slight in stature, he bends down and Aella peers up at him staring into his blue eyes. Next to him a woman with dark red hair and hazel eyes stands staring down at Aella. “Mom?” Aella questions.

“She shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes,” Anna says coolly.

Anna disregards Aella and continues, “I fell, forgot who I was and then I left her. It isn’t her fault,” as the man observes Aella carefully.

“She killed her brother,” he states. 

“He deserved it,” Anna counters. “Besides, I am sure you can sympathize. Our siblings aren’t always who we want them to be…” she provides.

“Hmm,” he agrees, “And the door?” he questions as if posing a problem he already knows how to resolve.

“Her intentions were true, her sacrifice pure. Bring her back,” she states bordering between a command and a request.

He rises “And you?” he probes staring up at her with the authority of a man with more power than he likes to broadcast. 

“I will come back. I will lead legions in your name,” she agrees.

“How very human of you to negotiate on her behalf,” he smirks. “You are lucky. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Anna,” he lectures in a paternal tone.

“I understand,” she states head bowed reverently.

Slipping away, Aella hears the man say threateningly, “Remember this moment Anna,” before snapping his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapter today since I will be on vacation!


	73. Chapter 73

When Castiel saw Anna in the middle of the cemetery carrying Aella he immediately knew only divine intervention could have brought them back. Anna shared a few brief words with Castiel, passed Aella into John’s arms and the two angels disappeared. While Rufus called Pastor Jim and Ellen, Bobby drove Aella and John to the nearest motel.

Bobby scans the empty parking lot before unlocking the door and ushering John and Aella inside. Sitting her on the bed, John kneels on the floor in front of her as Bobby slides the deadbolt in place. “Aella?” John asks cautiously, examining the dirt and blood on her face.

Gazing into his dark eyes, she reassures, “It’s me,” before glancing at Bobby. “Test me,” she sighs. Before John can object, Bobby probes, “What did I tell you when we first met?” eyeing her suspiciously. “Rufus asked if John found me on the playground,” she chuckles, “And then you told me I could go to college, have a family and that I was choosing this life,” she finishes staring at him self-assuredly.

“John,” Bobby urges.

“Bobby, I don’t need…” John begins.

Cupping his face with her hands, Aella whispers, “Do it,” her eyes softening. With an anxious expression, John asks, “Where did you tell me I should get my anti-possession tattoo?” every nerve in his body like a livewire waiting for her response.  She wordlessly brings her hand over his heart with a faint smile and he kisses her lips softly.  

After exhaling deeply, Bobby says, “I am going to call Rufus, double back and get my car and then book another room,” shaking his head.

With blood the color of rust and grime are smeared all over her body, John helps Aella to her feet. “Shower. Now,” he orders every smudge reminding him how he almost lost her. Scrubbing away flakes of blood and dirt, Aella stands in the shower, grateful for the hot spray. When her skin is pink from scouring, she turns the water off and pokes her head out from behind the curtain. Realizing her bag is still in the truck, she shouts, “John?” her voice echoing off the tile. She grabs a towel and wraps it around her body before emerging from the bathroom and realizing she isn’t alone. Aella asks, “Anna? How did you find me?” staring at the lithe redhead in disbelief.

“I’m your mother,” she responds aloofly.

Drops of water trickle from down Aella’s back, “Are you?” she questions with a hint of disdain.

Tilting her head Anna stares at Aella before musing, “You should have never been born,” in a pensive tone. Digging her fingers into the thick fabric of the towel, Aella answers, “Excuse me?” the anger in her voice clear. Turning her back towards Aella, Anna explains, “The daughter of a fallen angel. There are some who might try and use you to get to me, to get to heaven,” completely void of sympathy.

Aella glances around the room uncomfortably while scowling, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know anything about heaven,” she admits. “You have seen more than most. I could erase your memories. You could start over,” Anna offers lightly.

“What? Absolutely not!” Aella objects beginning to wonder where John is. “Take away all the heartache and the pain,” Anna continues disregarding Aella’s protests before pulling the curtain back and peering out the window.

“That isn’t happening,” Aella insists glaring at Anna as she turns and faces her. “My mom was Anna Milton, a sweet woman who did the best she could. She died in Blue Earth, Minnesota under awful circumstances.  You should leave,” Aella asserts. Seconds pass in silence, before she adds, “Leave and don’t come back,” her heart fracturing just slightly as she watches the woman who looks just like her mom.

“If that's what you want,” Anna relents before disappearing.  

Seconds after Anna vanishes, John walks into the room bag in each hand. Immediately noticing her pale expression, he asks, “What’s wrong?” setting the duffel bags down. “Did Rufus get a hold of Ellen?” Aella questions shivering now from the cold water dripping down her shoulders. “Yeah. They are on their way. Why?” John insists. “I just really need to see Sam and Dean,” she responds crossing the room and resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes while he rubs her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is going to be so good! i leave for vacation tomorrow night though so i won't get to post it. :(


	74. Chapter 74

The sun begins to set as John pulls into the parking lot of a roadhouse just off the highway. With the truck barely in park, Aella races to the door and flings it open. She discovers Sam and Dean mid-conversation standing next to a table where Ellen, Bill, Rufus and Bobby are already nursing their beers. “Aella!” Sam yells running towards her and she scoops him into her arms pulling him close to her chest. “I missed you so much,” she says with a smile kissing his forehead. Dean awkwardly stands next to his brother just as Aella wrangles him into a hug kissing the top of his head before messing up his hair. “I missed you both so much,” she repeats her heart bursting at the sight of them. “We missed you too,” Dean says with a smile, glancing around the room while trying to fix his hair.

“You’re embarrassing him in front of Jo,” Sam teases with a grin.

Aella smiles at Sam, “Oh and Joe doesn’t hug his mom?” she counters with her hands on her hips.

“Her,” Sam quips.

Shaking her head in confusion, Aella asks “What?” her brows furrowed.

“Jo’s real name is Joanna Beth, but don’t call her that! She will try and punch you if you do,” Sam explains while rubbing his arm.

“Interesting,” Aella muses scanning the inside of the roadhouse for the first time and spotting a blonde girl with pigtails standing in front of a jukebox. Nodding in greeting towards Bobby and Rufus, Aella encourages, “Go one. I bet that jukebox has some of the same songs as the diner,” she says with a smirk.

Searching for Ellen, Aella finds her standing at the bar trying to order another round. Walking over Aella crosses her arms over her chest and leans against counter. “Did the boys behave?” she asks her smile gone replaced with stare. “We all did,” Ellen responds absently trying to grab the bartender’s attention. Seconds pass in silence as Aella studies the older woman’s profile before answering, “I am glad to hear it,” leaning her back against the bar spotting Sam, Dean and Jo.

“So…Joanna Beth,” Aella jokes.

Ellen shakes her head, “That little girl lives to give me gray hairs. Just like her daddy,” Ellen gripes. 

Laughing, Aella responds, “I’ll bet,” earning a glare. “You just consider yourself lucky you are dealing with boys,” Ellen retorts. 

“I do. Trust me,” Aella nods smiling at Sam and Dean as they flip through songs and argue about which one to play.

Aella searches for John and finds him standing next to Bill when suddenly she hears a loud crash. “For the love of …” Ellen begins. “Joanna Beth Harvelle just what do you think you are doing?” she shouts deserting her attempts to order. Aella laughs and Bobby takes Ellen’s place. With a warm smile, Aella admits, “I don’t think I ever thanked you, Bobby. I am not sure John would be here if it weren’t for you,” she explains.

“Any chance you are going to take that gratitude and live a normal life?” he snaps.

“Bobby, this is my life,” Aella insists gently.

“Figured you would say that,” he replies before the bartender finally makes his way over and Bobby orders another round of beer. “If that’s the way you feel, I could use some help,” he says pulling his wallet from his vest.

“Help with what?” Aella asks curiously.

“The gate is closed, but there is still more than enough work topside to keep us busy. I could use someone with your skills. That is if you don’t mind being a bit more behind the scenes, or, as I like to call it pulling the strings. Someone’s gotta tell those boys where to point and shoot,” he simplifies. Aella glances back over at John and Bill intrigued when Bill nods and rests his hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll think about it,” Aella answers absentmindedly still staring at the two men.

John realizes Aella is watching him and walks over to the bar. “How’s it going?” he asks after taking a beer from Bobby. “You tell me,” she responds with an arched brow as she takes his drink and brings the bottle to her lips. She hands it back to him and waits for him to respond. “Bill and I are thinking about teaming up again. He wants to run it by Ellen though,” John discloses.

“Well that’s convenient. Bobby just offered me a job, kind of,” Aella says not quite sure what to call it.

“A job?” John questions.

“Apparently one paranoid bastard isn’t enough. He said he could use some more help behind the scenes. Finding cases. Research,” Aella explains.

“You going to do it?” John asks leaning against the bar moving closer to her.

Her pulse quickens, “I think so,” she says vaguely playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“Does this feel real to you?” she asks before glancing around the room. “Drinking beer with friends? Making plans? Being normal?” she questions.

“I am not sure I want to question it, but by all means let me help,” John smirks setting his beer on the counter. He strokes her jaw tilting her face up towards his before pressing her back against the counter and kissing her mouth.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because who needs to sleep .. or pack .. or shower ..
> 
> please comment so i feel like my lack of facing reality is justified.


	75. Chapter 75

_10 Years Later_

Broken glass litters the floor of the abandoned warehouse. John struggles against the ropes, his muscles straining under his white t-shirt. A faint noise across the warehouse draws his gaze just as a young woman emerges. With legs for days, a blonde pixie cut and an arched brow she stalks towards him. “John Winchester. In the flesh. I am told I have you to thank for being locked topside,” she says her voice seething with resentment.

Immediately stilling he responds, “I would say it is a pleasure, but my manners tend to go by the wayside when it comes to demon whores,” he retorts angrily before tugging on the restraints with renewed vigor.

With a hand on each arm of the chair, she towers over him. “Demon whore. That’s rich,” she chuckles while caressing the side of his face. “Tell me,” she insists, “Was that your pretty little girlfriend I saw leaving the motel a few hours ago? She seemed like she was in an awful hurry,” crooning as she watches him writhe. When he recoils, she leans closer, “Did you really think all that shared trauma was going to keep you together? That love would be enough?” laughing before stroking his jaw feeling the stubble of his salt-and-pepper beard against her fingertips. Ignoring his glare, she continues, “I will say I was expecting more of a fight. Lucky me you were so distracted" she mocks condescendingly. 

Suddenly her head jerks to the side and she is on her knees. “You talk entirely too much,” Aella says before plunging her knife into the back of the demon’s head producing a sharp crackle. A burning smell emits from the body before pitching to the side. Within seconds, Aella drops to her knees and begins cutting the rope tied around John’s wrists. Honey brown hair cascades over her shoulders as she saws at the thick cord avoiding his gaze. When his right arm is free, she works on the other while John tries to regain feeling in his hand. Glancing questioningly at the curtain of hair obscuring her face he begins “Aella…” in an uncertain tone.

“Don’t,” she interrupts finally freeing both of his hands. Pushing herself off the floor she sheathes her knife. Her electric blue eyes pierce his dark scowl. “When are you going to accept you can’t stop him?” she asks after folding her arms across her chest.

Tossing the rope to the side, John slowly stands. “I don’t want to lose him,” he answers.

“You think I want him to go? He will always be the little boy who loves pancakes. The scared kid I picked up from school when that bully almost broke his arm. The little brother who wouldn’t leave his big brother’s side for a second when Dean had the stomach flu,” she insists. John runs his fingers through his hair anxiously as her eyes soften. “He isn’t like Dean and Jo. He doesn’t want to hunt. He wants to go to college and he is really smart, John,” she asserts. 

Seeing her on the verge of tears John pulls her into his arms. “If you stand in his way, we will have already lost him,” she whispers her voice breaking. Resting his head on top of hers, he closes his eyes with a sigh. “Okay,” he relents kissing the side of her head. “Okay,” he repeats tilting her mouth up towards his. She unfolds her arms and clutches his shirt in his hands. “I love you. I am on your side, John. Always. To the ends of the earth,” she insists. After another long sigh, John nods and gently cups her face tasting her lips and once again trusting her to keep his family together the way she has since the moment she walked into his front door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg last chapter! Thank you for all your comments. They really helped me finish. I hate writing endings :,(

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to hell. Date your age. For real. 
> 
> Also, I changed the title from “End Game” to “On Your Side” because Avengers.
> 
> Lastly, I don't think anything makes me happier in this world than (nice) comments. I guess if you feel strongly about something I will take criticisms too.


End file.
